


Thriving in the Dark

by thissmallmoon



Category: Ghost of Tsushima (Video Game)
Genre: Exploring their relationship, In this house we don't talk about Fort Koyasan, Jin : getting out of the Onsen, Jin being the Ghost(TM), M/M, Taka : I am looking RESPECTFULLY, Taka being soft but also absolutely ready to cut you if you threaten people he loves, Yuna being a protective sis, also lots of smut because that's what I felt like writing, fix-it AU, idk what this pairing even is i'm just feeling it, it be like that sometimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:55:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 31,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25976308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thissmallmoon/pseuds/thissmallmoon
Summary: It starts at the onsen.Taka doesn't mean for it to happen. He doesn't mean to stumble upon Lord Sakai sitting in the pool with his well-defined arms and his sparse chest hair on display, his eyes closed and his face calm. He doesn't mean to look, either, as Sakai opens his eyes and gives him a nod, standing up to step out of the hot pool, his naked body gleaming tantalizingly in the steam, his flat belly, his strong thighs, his shapely ass.Taka doesn't mean to stare but above all, he doesn't mean to get caught doing it.
Relationships: Jin Sakai/Taka
Comments: 142
Kudos: 361





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was in the middle of playing Ghost of Tsushima and got hit with this idea. No-one else seemed to be into this pairing, so I thought I might as well write for it myself lol. All mistakes are mine, sorry if there are any inaccuracies about feudal Japan, I know literally nothing.
> 
> It's a fix-it AU, but there are still spoilers for the entire game, so beware if you haven't finished it :)
> 
> Title from one of the many terrible haiku I wrote in the game.

It starts at the onsen.

Taka doesn't mean for it to happen. He doesn't mean to stumble upon Lord Sakai sitting in the pool with his well-defined arms and his sparse chest hair on display, his eyes closed and his face calm. He doesn't mean to look, either, as Sakai opens his eyes and gives him a nod, standing up to step out of the hot pool, his naked body gleaming tantalizingly in the steam, his flat belly, his strong thighs, his shapely ass.

Taka doesn't mean to stare but above all, he doesn't mean to get caught doing it. Lord Sakai's eyebrows arch faintly and Taka feels all his blood rush up to his face. He knows men don't normally look at other men's asses that way, not unless they are a very specific type of deviant. The type Taka knew he was before he even knew most things about himself.

He tenses up, expecting some kind of rebuke or mockery. Or worse, violence. Sakai doesn't seem the type, but people aren't generally kind to Taka when they find out. He's accepted it as being normal, just as he's accepted this about himself. There is no changing it, and there is no changing how other people think of it, so Taka just has to live with it.

But if Lord Sakai is offended, he doesn't show it. He doesn't say anything, his face impassive and his eyes slightly narrowed in a way that reminds Taka of when he scouts out an enemy camp, focused and a little calculating.

Then he turns to rub himself dry with a linen towel and Taka looks away hurriedly, removing his loosely-tied yukata so he can step into the hot pool of water, shifting until the water is up to his chin, his hair fanning out around him, concealing him.

He hears Lord Sakai walk away quietly, and doesn't turn around.

***

After that, Taka is very careful. He stills looks at Lord Sakai in the eye -the man likes obedience but isn't particularly impressed by subservience, he's found- bowing politely every time he steps into the forge to make a requisition. He speaks when spoken to, carefully weighing his words. Yuna notices, giving him curious looks though she doesn't ask.

Lord Sakai doesn't treat him any differently. He isn't cold but he is distant, in the way he seems to be with most people, closed-off. He doesn't try to make small talk with Taka beyond practical questions about the grappling hook and the Mongols, and doesn't linger once he has what he wants from the forge.

He talks with Yuna still, and sometimes Taka is invited. They eat and drink sake and Taka occasionally contributes to the conversation, watching them both. Lord Sakai is a little more expressive, when he talks to Yuna, his eyebrows furrowing as she fearlessly contradicts him, though he never raises his voice. She makes him smile too, small but genuine, and talk about his past, his home, his family. Taka drinks it all in, and tries not to feel too intensely jealous at the way his sister seems to have gotten past the thick walls Sakai built to protect himself.

In any case, there is too much to do to worry about what this could be. Between the nightmares keeping him up at night, the grappling hook prototypes he endlessly puts to the test, and the knot in his belly every time Yuna and Sakai leave for another dangerous mission, he scarcely has any time to consider it.

***

The first time it happens takes Taka almost entirely by surprise. He spent the evening watching Lord Sakai slaughter an entire Mongol camp, safely tucked away on top of a nearby hill. He watched as the samurai first took the archers out, climbing on top of their watchtowers silently and slitting their throats, then sent a couple of black powder bombs on their fire pit and in the middle of the confusion and smoke, sliced his way through the Mongols one by one. Their leader he kept for last, sheathing his katana as they stood off and then drawing it back out almost supernaturally fast, taking the Mongol's head cleanly off in a single blow.

It is much later now and Taka is lying in bed in his narrow room above the forge, his eyes wide open in the darkness as he replays the various scenes from the evening in his mind. The shooting, the bombs, the duel. It is not how samurai should fight, Taka knows. A samurai should fight honorably, and give his enemies the opportunity to see him come and defeat him in a fair fight.

Sakai doesn't always do that. Taka does not blame him : the Mongols are many and there is only one of him, but he knows that by the rigid rules of the samurai, he has relinquished his honor for efficiency. He is no samurai anymore, despite his armor. He is no ronin, either, no mere mercenary. He has become entirely other, a storm contained within a man, the wrath of an entire people compressed into a sword. A ghost, the people are beginning to whisper. A vengeful spirit come to save the island from certain doom.

It is odd, Taka thinks, that he feels no fear when he thinks about Lord Sakai. He should, the man could kill him in an instant, but he can't bring himself to. He feels many things for Lord Sakai, respect, gratitude, some amount of awe, but not any fear. He wonders if this is what it's like to be on friendly terms with a vengeful spirit, an _onryo_ , what it is like to look a ghost in the face and know it means you no harm.

There is no noise at all that announces his coming, but suddenly Taka sees a glint of something move in the corner of his eye and when he turns his head, Lord Sakai is there. His heart leaps to his throat and sends a full-body jolt through him. He lifts himself onto his elbows, his eyes wide. Sakai doesn't say anything and they stare at each other for a few long seconds.

There is only one possible reason for Lord Sakai to be in his room in the middle of the night, and they both know what it is. Sakai tilts his head to the side minutely and Taka feels like he is being asked a silent question, like he is given a choice. If he shakes his head, he knows Sakai will leave without a word and never speak of this again.

Instead he sits up on his straw mattress, his chest bare under his thin blanket. He never looks away from Sakai, afraid that he might dissolve back into the shadows if he takes his eyes from him for even a second. Slowly, he moves to a kneeling position, his chin tilted up invitingly. Only then does Sakai come closer, kneeling down in front of him, one knee and then the other, close enough to touch. He's not wearing his armor, only a black kimono tied tightly at the waist. He still smells faintly of black powder but he doesn't smell of blood anymore; he must have bathed.

Sakai reaches out and his hands -the hands that have saved Taka's life, killed hundreds of Mongols and almost single-handedly hauled Tsushima back to its feet and into a fighting stance- land on Taka's shoulders, carefully. Sakai's fingers are warm and gentle despite the sword callouses, stroking up his shoulders and neck and going into his long hair. He pitches forward and Taka goes with it, drawing a sharp intake of breath when their mouths meet.

The kiss is not tentative but it is careful too, at least at first. Taka keeps his eyes open, so dazed that he is almost unresponsive, his lips parted and his arms at his sides. If it didn't feel so real, Taka would think this is a dream his deviant mind came up with to taunt and torture him with what he can never hope to have.

He knows it isn't, still, mostly because this isn't how he would have imagined it at all. He would have imagined Sakai to be a lot more assertive, demanding and taking what he wants; what Taka would be too happy to give him.

Instead the man is kissing him patiently, his mouth only opening after a while to lick at Taka's lips. The rush of heat that goes down Taka's chest and pools in his groin almost blindsides him and suddenly he's kissing back, his mouth opening wide and his arms coming around Sakai, fingers digging into his shoulders. Sakai makes a quiet noise at the back of his throat and responds in kind, lips and tongue and teeth, heatedly enough that they have to part for breath quickly, panting against each other.

Taka leans back and they end up on his straw mattress, Sakai's hips fitting neatly between his spread thighs, their bodies aligned. He's getting hard between their stomachs and as the man settles against him, he can feel that Sakai is too. He arches his hips to line them up and rocks as hard as he can, hissing between clenched teeth at the rough pleasure that comes with the friction. It's too dry and too clumsy to be satisfying and yet he can't stop, moaning as quietly as he can manage when Sakai ducks his head to suck on his lower lip.

Sakai leans up on an elbow and makes quick work of their clothes, his face thrown in sharp relief by the moonlight, his eyes dark. He looks foreboding, like an ink etching of a samurai, and yet Taka feels no fear. He lies under Sakai panting, his cheeks flushed and his eyes wide as he tugs on the strip of cloth that keeps his yukata tied loosely and parts it, baring them both.

Then it's skin on skin, and the feeling of one of Sakai's muscular thighs against his cock, rubbing and rocking. Taka's head goes back and he shivers when Sakai kisses down his throat, his stubbly chin rasping against sensitive skin. He runs his hands down the solid muscle of Sakai's back, nails digging a little.

He'd known Sakai wasn't truly a ghost, made from smoke and righteous wrath. He's seen the man bleed; he's seen him naked. But to feel him, warm and heavy and aroused, is another matter entirely. For all the legends swirling around his prowess, Sakai is still but a man.

The idea makes Taka rock harder, his hips lifting from his straw pallet. It's so good and yet the friction is not enough, taunting him with pleasure. After a while Sakai seems to agree, finally reaching to close his hand around them both, squeezing.

“Lord Sakai,” Taka whispers, awed and weak with pleasure, his hips bucking. The man huffs and sucks a careful bruise into his collarbone.

“Jin,” he corrects, and Taka whines, closing his eyes. He doesn't know that he will ever be able to call him that. It is too startling, too intimate. He might have to never call Lord Sakai anything again, he thinks with grim determination.

But there is no time to worry about this now, not with Sakai stroking them both in quick, short strokes, his fingers slick from the way Taka is dripping already. Taka's eyes roll back and he opens his mouth to groan, as his pleasure builds, choking on it when Sakai's free hand comes to rest against his mouth, muffling him.

The feeling of that, almost as much as Sakai's stroking hand, is what sends Taka over the edge. His entire body goes tight with it, almost too hot as he comes hard enough to make his head spin. Through the rush of pleasure, he dimly registers Sakai following him almost immediately, warm and slick against his stomach, entirely silent. It sends a jolt through Taka's over-sensitive system and he nips on Sakai's palm without meaning to, tasting salt.

Sakai must take that as a request to pull his hand away because he does, even as he's still panting against Taka's shoulder, his other hand cupped between them to keep most of the mess contained. There is a moment of stillness, both of them catching their breaths, sweat cooling on heated flesh.

Taka fumbles in the dark for a piece of clean cloth and offers it silently, watching in the dim light as Sakai wipes his fingers carefully, his own stomach, and then Taka's. He shifts and Taka fully expects him to stand up and disappear back into the darkness, but he merely rolls onto his back, discarding the stained cloth and sighing quietly, pleased.

They lie down side by side for what feels like a long time, Taka's heartbeat going back to normal, his breathing evening out. Sakai is warm at his side, his skin feeling hot where their naked shoulders touch. It sends a shiver down Taka's spine and he reaches over in the dark to pull his blanket up, making sure it covers Sakai's body as well. Sakai moves and Taka rolls onto his side to make room on his straw pallet, watching him in the dark as they end up face to face. Sakai's face is still unreadable but it also seems softer, somehow, less guarded.

“I'll be gone before dawn,” he says after a few seconds, quietly. He does not sound hesitant and yet it sounds like a question, like asking for permission.

“Yes,” Taka agrees and he closes his eyes, settling down to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for all the kudos and comments, it means a lot to know other people are liking this pairing too <3
> 
> fun fact : this story's working title was "Grappling Hook to the Heart", because of [this lovely artwork](https://snarkspawn.tumblr.com/post/625909453856915456/grappling-hook-right-to-the-heart-tbh) you should absolutely check out if you like Taka too :)

The second time it happens is much less unexpected. That doesn't make it any less remarkable.

Taka is at the forge, banking the fire for the night as the evening grows dark. He hears noise outside, a crowd gathering, merry cheers and heartfelt greetings. As he hurries out, he's just in time to see Lord Sakai ride down the main street of the village in full armor, Yuna at his side. They are back from a dangerous mission raiding a Mongol camp and, judging by the way their saddlebags are heavy with supplies, successful.

The relief Taka feels at seeing his sister unarmed is intense, like a weight lifted off his chest. He comes forward to meet her, hugging her tightly to his chest for as long as she will allow. From above Yuna's shoulder he meets Sakai's eyes, and realizes that some of the relief he feels is for him. It makes him smile, a little self-disparagingly. The Ghost does not need Taka to worry for him when he goes on to fight the Mongols.

Sakai doesn't smile back but he nods, the corners of his eyes softening a little.

“We should celebrate,” Yuna says as she steps away, bright despite her tiredness. “Eat, drink!” She turns around. “Jin! Are you coming?” Yuna does not share his reticence to call Lord Sakai by his first name. The samurai hesitates, his eyes going between Yuna and Taka several times. Finally, he shakes his head.

“I must take care of my armor and meditate. I will see you in the morning,” he tells Yuna. And then, silently, he tells Taka something else, his dark eyes lingering on him for just a second. _And I will see you before that._

Yuna makes a dismissive noise, her arm coming to rest around Taka's shoulders. “More for us, right? So, what have you been up to? Any trouble?”

The evening goes on like this, the two of them tucked around a small table at the inn, eating their fill of rice and fish and drinking sake. Yuna is just as animated as usual, telling tales of defeating the Mongols to both Taka and the villagers assembled around them. But Taka can see she is tired too, and that the stories she tells are not the entire truth.

He manages to persuade her to go to bed easily enough and gets another gourd of sake before he makes his way back to the forge guided by moonlight, climbing up the ladder that leads to his small room. Sakai is already there, sitting on the straw pallet, so still Taka almost doesn't see him at first.

“You should have come,” Taka says, only swaying a little as he climbs the rest of the way up and comes closer. He hands the gourd over, kneeling down on the straw pallet as well. “If only to correct the stories Yuna is telling about you. She's half-persuaded the villagers that you're less man than vengeful spirit already,” he says and Sakai snorts, uncorking the gourd.

“I did not wish to intrude.” He takes a drink and his eyebrows go up immediately. “This is good sake,” he says, surprised.

Taka grins. “It is. It's from your good friend Kenji. He came by while you were away, declaring that you were the best of men, a god among mere mortals and that he would never be able to repay what you have done for him, but would nonetheless start by selling us a cask of his very best sake for a price so low it would make his ancestors weep.”

The look on Sakai's face -exasperation and just a little reluctant fondness- makes Taka laugh. “I suspected he was greatly exaggerating your friendship, but I did get the innkeeper to buy the sake, because it _was_ a good price.”

Sakai sighs, but he takes another drink. “Where Kenji goes, trouble follows. And when that happens, he calls me to get him out of it.” He sounds disapproving but not in a harsh way. Almost, Taka thinks, more disappointed than anything, because he thinks Kenji could be a much better man if he tried. It's touching, in a way, for a man like Sakai to still have such hopes.

“How was it?” he asks after a few seconds of silence. “Yuna wouldn't tell me.”

(“What you don't know can't give you nightmares, Taka,” she'd said, and Taka had vehemently disagreed. What he doesn't know can absolutely give him nightmares. To this day, he still makes sure not to think about the Black Wolf.)

Sakai studies him carefully, then tilts his head down. “We got there too late to save the village. They'd already burned it to the ground. All that was left to do was avenge the dead and gather as many supplies as we could find for the living.”

Getting the gourd back from Sakai's fingers, Taka takes a slow drink. “Did you kill all of them?” he asks, his voice quiet.

“Yes,” Sakai says, steady.

“Thank you,” Taka whispers, because he doesn't know what else he could say.

“It is my duty.” A dispassionate answer, hiding the truth.

“That doesn't mean we should take it for granted,” Taka points out, and Sakai says nothing. “Here.” Taka hands him the sake, and he will wait until Sakai has finished it to lean in and give him a kiss. Sakai makes a quiet noise at the back of his throat, like he's surprised by Taka's boldness, or did not truly think this would happen again.

He kisses back still, opening up greedily, his hands tugging at Taka's white headband so his hair falls free. They end up tangled on the straw pallet again and it's easier this time, less daunting, more familiar. Sakai's body is warm under Taka's hands, and the man makes quiet noises of pleasure as Taka touches him, carefully avoiding the nasty bruise that covers his entire right side.

They rock together unhurriedly despite their frantic kissing, Taka's hands going under the hem of Sakai's clothing and stroking up his back, feeling the muscles there move. He's hot and aroused and Sakai's weight on him is both overwhelming and grounding, his hips trying to grind up and find a rhythm.

“What do you want?” Taka whispers between kisses, curious. They haven't discussed this at all, and Taka is very willing to find out and give Sakai what he needs. The man doesn't answer though, pushing up on his elbows to look at him before he ducks again, untying Taka's yukata and leaning in to take his cock into his mouth in such a smooth motion all Taka can do is make a strangled noise of pleasure, staring. Sakai is steady despite the sake and he's clearly done this before, dark eyes flashing up as Taka groans, slapping his palm over his own mouth to muffle himself.

That's – he did not expect that. He's had people do this to him before, but never so shamelessly, so freely willing to give without asking anything in return. He shudders deeply, feeling Sakai's surprisingly lush lips wrapped around him tightly, his tongue stroking, his cheeks hollowing. It's overwhelming and though he wants to watch and see it too, see his cock disappear into Lord Sakai's mouth, he fears he might come much too soon if he does. So he stares at the ceiling instead and tries not to buck, putting his hands in Sakai's disheveled hair instead, holding on gently.

It goes on for what both feels like a very long and a very short time, Taka blinking in the darkness, panting and twisting under Sakai's hands on his hips. The sound of it is obscene in the quiet of the night, wet and unmistakable, and the feeling is indescribable.

“ _Jin_ ,” Taka manages in warning, feeling the pressure build, the need to come growing urgent. Sakai hums and withdraws slowly, wrapping his hand around Taka's cock instead, stroking him quick and hard. Taka comes with a hiss, his hips bucking wildly until Sakai puts his other hand on his waist, pushing him down. The release makes his toes curl and his heart pound so hard he can feel it in the roof of his mouth, prickles of heat running through his whole body. He lies with his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth open, breathing heavily. Sakai moves, leaning up to give him a closed-mouthed kiss.

It's obviously meant to be a brief kiss but Taka doesn't let it, putting his hand in Sakai's hair to keep him down and licking into his mouth, as lewdly as he can manage. It makes Sakai shiver and break away, shifting until his cock is a hard, heated line against Taka's hip. They watch each other in the dark, Taka's eyebrows going up in silent question. Sakai moves slowly, as if not to startle, and puts his hand between Taka's thighs, where his skin is hot and sweat-slick. Sakai's fingers are still wet with Taka's release, he realizes with a weak jolt of arousal.

“Here,” Sakai says and he manages to make it sound like a question, despite the lack of inflection on the word. Taka nods and moves to rearrange himself, rolling onto his side with Sakai pressed against his back. This feels good too, the warm weight of Sakai against the length of his body, careful but inescapable.

He shifts when he feels Sakai's hand between his thighs again, spreading them a little and then pressing them closely together as Sakai pushes his cock there. It's too dry at first and they have to try again, Sakai withdrawing and spitting into his hand to slick himself before he presses close again. Holding himself steady, Taka concentrates on the sensation. It's not unpleasant, Sakai's cock between his thighs, hot and hard, the tip pressing behind his balls every time he bucks forward.

Taka bends his knees to make it easier and Sakai goes at it in earnest, his hips slapping against Taka's ass every time he thrusts forward. The movement is almost exactly what it would be if they were fucking – and that's probably what it would look like they're doing to anyone that would see them, Taka thinks, arousal making his cheeks burn and his belly tight. If he was younger he would probably get hard again from this, from the feeling of Sakai's hipbones against his ass, his cock rubbing between his thighs, and from the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Soon, Sakai comes with a ragged groan, almost loud enough for Taka to tell him off, his hips jerking a few more times before he stills. Taka can feel come drip and smear filthily against his skin, running down his own spent cock and, as Sakai withdraws, up the cleft of his ass. It should disgust him, but he just feels marked by it, owned in a way that is not unappealing.

The urge to wash is still there and he patiently waits for Sakai to recover and roll away before he kneels up and pads to the washbasin in the corner of his room, bringing it back with him. He cleans himself carefully and then rinses the washcloth before he hands it over, Sakai sitting up so he can run it along his body.

Once the basin is discarded, Taka comes back to his straw pallet, yawning. Sakai is still sitting up, as if he expects to be told to leave. Taka just gives him a look and half of his blanket, arching his eyebrows at him until Sakai lies back down next to him, their legs tangling together.

“I'll be gone before dawn,” Sakai says, just like the first time, and Taka hums.

“Surely the _Ghost of Tsushima_ can sneak out of my humble forge without being seen,” he answers, and grins when Jin snorts and nudges him reprovingly under the blanket, but stays.


	3. Chapter 3

The third time it happens, Taka is not supposed to be there.

Lord Sakai has explicitly told him - and Yuna - to stay at the village. It's a dangerous mission, one that involves sneaking into a large Mongol camp and killing the general while he sleeps, without alerting the guards. And then, if Sakai can manage it, going around the camp and taking out all the soldiers there, one by one, without raising the alarm.

Jin leaves at sunset, looking grim, and Taka is struck with the thought that it might be the last time he sees him. That thought follows him all evening and to his little room, as he lies on his pallet. What if Jin doesn't make it back to the village? What if they go looking for him in the morning, and find his head on a spike in front of the camp?

That image is gruesome enough to get Taka out of bed and into his clothes, silently stepping out of the forge and getting his horse from the stables. He's not even sure what he'll do if Sakai is indeed in trouble. He's a poor fighter and he knows it, he cannot take down Mongol soldiers for a daring rescue. Perhaps he'll even get taken again, and made a prisoner, forced to forge weapons for the enemy. The idea makes him shudder deeply yet he doesn't turn his horse around, riding towards the camp by moonlight, careful not to make too much noise.

He won't stay, he decides. He will check to see that everything is going as it should be, that the camp is still silent and sleeping as Sakai works his way through it, and then go back. And if something has gone wrong, he will ride back to the village as fast as he can manage, get Yuna and a few other villagers, and mount a rescue operation.

He ties his horse to a tree at a reasonable distance and approaches carefully, crouching in the pampa grass when he is near enough to get a good view of the Mongol camp. It is very quiet, a few guards milling around the fires sleepily, their eagles silent.

Straining his eyes against the darkness, Taka stays still for a long, long time before he sees anything. The guard closest to the torch by the entrance of the camp turns his head and there is a flash as a blade is unsheathed, disappearing deep into the man's back. Not even a gurgle, and hands grab the falling Mongol to pull him into the darkness, never to be seen again. The Ghost, working his way through the camp.

Take stands slowly, his heart in his throat. All is obviously going according to plan and he means to turn back, and yet he can't stop staring, willing his eyes to see better, to catch another glimpse of the Ghost. He's so focused he does not see the Mongol soldier coming his way until he is right before him, his sword drawn, opening his mouth to yell.

The only reason Taka sees the Ghost coming is because his shadow passes over the moon briefly as he leaps down from a nearby roof. He's entirely silent, deadly precise, and as he lands his katana goes into the Mongol soldier threatening Taka at the shoulder, nearly cleaving him in two. The man falls heavily, without making a sound.

Taka stares, his grip tight on his own blade. In the moonlight, the Ghost is wet black with blood, sinister antlers twisting above his head, snarling mask covering his face. Taka cannot see his eyes, just the faint glint of moonlight reflected under the edge of his helmet.

The Ghost takes one step towards him and Taka takes one step back, his eyes wide. He knows, rationally, that the Ghost is not here for him, that he won't harm him, won't attack him. But seeing death march towards him in the dark of night triggers his fight or flight response, his heart pounding in his chest.

The Ghost takes another step forward.

Taka's never been much of a fighter. He flees.

***

He runs headlong into the forest, too loudly, probably alerting nearby animals and guards, if they are still alive. He doesn't remember where he left his horse, doesn't remember which way the village is. He just runs, a prey animal that has caught scent of the wolf. His lungs are burning and his mind is spiraling with fear and something else, something more like awe.

The Ghost comes out of nowhere and grabs him by the arm, pulling him back. When he will remember this, Taka will realize that it wasn't a rough touch at all, that Jin probably tried not to hurt him. At that moment though, it goes through him like a shock.

He opens his mouth to scream and the Ghost covers his mouth, pushing him up against the nearest tree to keep him still. “Taka,” the Ghost says, harshly. “Why are you here?”

The Ghost has no face, Taka realizes. Between the mask covering his mouth and the helmet covering his eyes, there is nothing human about him in the darkness.

“Taka,” the Ghost says again, and this time his voice is different. Concerned. He removes his hand from Taka's mouth and gives him a push, shaking him. “Are you hurt?”

It's Lord Sakai's voice, rough but recognizable. Jin's voice.

Taka blinks. Of course it is, he thinks, carefully. Who else would it be?

The Ghost tilts his head back and lets moonlight fall on his features and suddenly Taka can see Jin's eyes, narrowed but not unkind, staring back at him. His world shifts, rearranges itself to accommodate the cognitive dissonance of Jin and the Ghost being the same person.

“Taka,” Jin says again, quietly. He keeps his hand on Taka's chest, but his touch grows gentler. “Are you hurt?”

Taka shakes his head slowly, his hands coming up to rest on the back of Jin's, above the metal plates there. As Jin turns them over so he can hold onto Taka's fingers, he sees that there is blood under his nails.

“Why did you come?” Jin asks, his eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“I was worried,” Taka whispers and it sounds ridiculous even to his own ears. The Ghost does not need his worry. He doesn't need his help.

Jin sighs, displeased but not angry. “It's too dangerous. I told you. The Mongols could have caught you. Killed you, probably, when they'd realize their generals were dead.”

Taka trembles but he does not protest, because that is true. “I know,” he says, instead, quietly. He did, and still came. Jin watches him in the dark, and his eyes are impossibly soft. Up close, he smells like metal. Steel from his armour, and iron from the blood of his enemies. Taka wants to kiss him.

“You ran from me,” Jin says, after a beat.

“I-” Taka tries and he can feel his heartbeat pick up again, his mind scrambling for stable ground. Jin must feel it too because he moves closer, as if to ground him, pushing him against the tree behind him, the long, hard line of his body pressing against Taka's. It's not unwelcome, despite the ridges of his armor digging into Taka's chest and he shifts to make them fit together better, gasping when Jin's armored leg ends up between his thighs.

The contact is too cold and too harsh to be pleasurable, and yet Taka realizes with a jolt that he's getting hard, his hips jerking, blood rushing up to his cheeks and down to his groin. He can see the exact moment Jin understands what is happening, the way his head rears back a little in surprise before his hips tilt closer, making sure that yes, this is what he thinks it is.

“Taka?” he whispers, and Taka closes his eyes, his body feeling too cold and too hot at the same time. “I don't-” he tries, shivering against Jin, holding on tightly to his hands, the only point of skin-to-skin contact between them. He doesn't know how to explain. He doesn't know how to describe how he felt when he saw the Ghost come towards him with his katana drawn, how he feels now, pushed up against a tree with Jin's dark eyes surveying him like he's a kind of enemy he's never encountered before, and he is trying to decide which stance he should adopt.

He doesn't know how to explain, so he does something absurd instead. He leans in and presses his mouth to the snarling lips of Jin's mask, feeling the cool metal of it against his face, and the warmth of Jin's breath behind as he exhales in surprise. Taka's hands scramble for purchase on Jin's armored shoulders; he's so much larger than usual like this, metal plates upon metal plates, unyielding.

“I can't,” Taka says, breathlessly. He can't put this into words, not now. He doesn't want to try. “Please.” His throat is closing up with emotion again. Jin takes him by the shoulders, fingers digging in, calling for his attention. He doesn't say anything for a few seconds and then tilts his head back down, his eyes disappearing in the shadows. He's decided which stance will be best for this situation.

“Get on your knees,” the Ghost demands, and his voice is low and implacable, the tone he uses to give ultimatums, to tell Mongol generals to surrender or die.

But it doesn't feel like a threat. It feels like a blessing.

Jin sees him, he understands, and the relief Taka experiences is so intense he could sob with it. He folds down to his knees easily, the long grass cool and soft through his trousers. He has to let go of Jin's hands, giving a quiet sigh when they end up in his hair instead, stroking briefly. Taka closes his eyes for a second, letting a strange feeling of calm settle over him.

Then Jin is tugging at his armor, not removing it but pulling aside what needs to be pulled aside, loosening a few knots and shoving some of the leather panels up until he can take his cock in his hand and guide it into Taka's mouth.

He opens up for it eagerly and Jin presses all the way in, slipping hot and slick over Taka's tongue until he's deep enough that his throat starts to rebel. It makes Taka hum but he does not complain. His mouth is watering for it and his hands tremble as he holds onto the back of Jin's knees. He wants this with an intensity that is startling, wants to do this for Jin, for the Ghost, for himself.

He's very nearly frantic with it but luckily it's a simple enough task and all Taka has to do is suck, hollowing his cheeks and pressing his tongue tightly up, providing slick pressure, that little bit of resistance he knows feels so good. Jin does most of the moving, his hands in Taka's hair again, keeping him where he wants him as his hips rock. He's not exactly gentle but he's not harsh either and Taka can take it, even if his jaw starts to ache, his own cock straining inside his trousers.

He never quite dares to glance up, keeping his eyes down, focusing on the metal plates against his face. He can feel the shadow of the Ghost over him still, larger and darker than it should be, stretching towards the sky fantastically and blocking the moonlight.

And yet the noise Jin makes as he comes is entirely human; Taka swallows so he doesn't choke, pulling away with a gasp to catch his breath. He keeps his head bent, his heated cheek coming to rest against the cool metal of the Ghost's armor, as if absorbing some of that calm for himself. His lips feel hot and oversensitive when he licks them, the taste of Jin's pleasure heavy on his tongue. It makes him groan, quiet but heartfelt, hiding his face against Jin's armour.

He only has a few seconds to recover before he finds himself hauled up and has to bite down a yelp, shivering when he's pressed against the rough bark of the tree behind him again, more purposefully this time, trapped. The Ghost puts his metal face into the crook of Taka's neck, the edge of his helmet digging into his shoulder. Armored hands make quick work of his clothes and soon there are -thankfully bare- fingers wrapping around his cock.

It hardly takes anything, Jin's fingers stroking him a few times, too dry and too tight, before Taka comes, his head going back with the shock of pleasure. It's so intense the blood rushing to his ears sounds like someone is blowing a horn nearby. It's only when Jin curses that Taka realizes someone is actually blowing a horn nearby, shouts coming from the Mongol camp up the hill.

“Where is your horse?” Jin asks, reattaching the panels of his armor and Taka can remember now, running to get it as they both escape, disappearing back into the night.

***

Back at the village, Jin gives him a stern talking-to. Taka is appropriately contrite for it, keeping his eyes down and nodding when Jin asks him to be more careful. He'd do it again if he had to, he still thinks, mutinously. If Jin needs his help, he's not going to just stand by and watch, no matter the danger.

They end up in Taka's little room above the forge, having a late dinner. It's fish and rice and Taka eats slowly, enjoying the quiet companionship. After a while, Jin sets his empty bowl down.

“Was it the armor?” he asks, his voice cautious, and Taka can feel blood rush up to his cheeks. “The mask?”

“No,” he answers, immediately, because saying this is about how Jin looks in his armor entirely fails to encompass what Taka felt as he watched the Ghost do what he does best. And yet, it did play a part in all this. “...yes,” he amends, setting his bowl down. “Perhaps in part.”

He dares to look up, finds Jin's eyes. There is no judgment there, only a gentle desire to understand. “It's the Ghost,” Taka tries to explain, swallowing dryly.

“I'm the Ghost,” Jin returns, eyebrows furrowing. “It's just me.”

“No, Jin. It isn't. Not anymore.” Taka looks away, thinking about how to best explain this. “The Ghost is a story, now. A story villagers and refugees tell each other in the dark, while they hide away from the Mongols. A story they'll still tell in a hundred years, long after you and I are dead.” He glances up to see how Jin is taking this. His face is very blank.

“It's hope, now. Justice. Revenge. But also death, coming for you while you sleep.” Taka sighs. “I didn't mean to run from you. I forgot it was you, for a moment. You were a vengeful spirit, and I got scared.” He's not proud of it, mostly because of how it must have made Jin feel, to see his lover unable to bear the sight of him dripping with blood.

“Then you kissed me,” Jin says, his voice low.

“I wanted you, for the same reason that I was scared of you.” Hope, justice, revenge, death, all wrapped into the same story. Jin's story. Taka is honored to play a part in it, however small.

Jin reaches out, taking his hand. “What we did, was that what you wanted?” he inquires, his eyes sharp on Taka's face. Taka can feel himself flush again.

“Yes. I would have told you, if it wasn't.” Jin nods, and Taka squeezes his hand. “Come to bed.”

Jin comes.

Later, Taka is lying on his side with his cheek on Jin's shoulder, listening to the steady beat of his heart, to his slow breathing. He puts his hand on Jin's chest, gently. “You can ask me, too. If there are things that you want,” he whispers, quiet but clear. Jin has been so careful with him, so eager to give him what he wants and taking only measured sips in return.

He can feel Jin hum, his cheek coming to rest against his forehead.

“Make _you_ wear the mask,” he teases sleepily and Taka laughs, patting his belly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's tl;dr is  
> The Ghost: _assassinates his way through a Mongol camp_  
>  Taka: well, mark me down as scared _and_ aroused


	4. Chapter 4

As it turns out, what Jin apparently wants is to beat Taka up with a bamboo stick.

Well. Perhaps that is an uncharitable way of seeing things.

 _Sparring_ , Jin had called it.

The end result is the same.

“You have to be more careful with your footwork,” Jin tells him gently, and Taka glares up to him, his eyes narrowed. His arm hurts where Jin hit him, though he knows it was only a glancing blow.

Ignoring Taka's angry huff, Jin grabs his hand and pulls him back to his feet. “Again,” he requests, easily falling into what Taka can now recognize to be the stone stance.

“Jin,” he protests, wiping his sweaty brow. “It's useless. I'll never be good at this.”

Jin frowns at him. “You don't need to be good at it. Passable is enough to not get yourself killed.” He points his bamboo stick at Taka, gracefully. “You're getting better already. You managed to dodge me a few times.”

Lifting his own bamboo stick, Taka sighs. “You're not really attacking me,” he points out. “I've seen you fight, I wouldn't stand a chance.” Jin doesn't deny it. They both know that it is true.

“How would you take me down, if you had to?” Taka pushes, a little morbidly curious about it and Jin gives him a look, disapproving.

“I would never attack you,” he says, his voice low and intent and Taka hums in agreement.

“I know that. But if you didn't know me and I charged at you with a weapon? What would you do?” Taka isn't sure why he's pursuing this line of inquiry. He doesn't really want to know, and it's obviously making Jin uncomfortable.

He's thought about this, though, thought about how he would like to go if he could choose. Out of all of Jin's many lethal tricks, he thinks he would choose the Heavenly Strike. It's swift, and it only takes one blow to take the enemy down. Taka likes to think that it wouldn't hurt much. You'd barely have the time to see it coming before you were already gone, he assumes, and that's almost reassuring.

“I'd be able to tell you were a civilian,” Jin says, cutting through bloody fantasies. “So I would try not to kill you.” He aims his bamboo stick at Taka's middle. “I'd punch you in the stomach and disarm you.”

The contrast between that and what Taka was imagining makes him snort and rub at his face. “Very undignified,” he says wryly and Jin gives him a small grin. “Get better at fighting, then,” he counters and Taka groans but gets back into position.

One very long hour later, Taka's back and shins hurt, and his hand feels sore where he gripped the bamboo stick too tight. He's not sure he's getting any better at fighting, but he's getting a little better at dodging Jin's attacks, as long as he keeps them always the same. It's not much, but it's something.

After they eat though, Jin takes him to the nearest onsen and gives him a very intent kiss while no-one is watching. They end up rolling naked together in the long grass and Taka gets so many twigs in his hair it takes ages to comb them all out. He's still willing to call this a successful training session.

***

“So,” Yuna tells Jin as they are riding together. It's almost sunset, and the red sun shines low over the field of white flowers they are crossing. “You and Taka.”

Jin turns his head to look at her, surprised. While he did think she would eventually figure it out, Taka and he have gone through some trouble to keep their relationship discreet. He arches his eyebrows at Yuna and she just shrugs, dismissive.

“You're not that good at hiding it. Taka's always been a terrible liar and even you go all soft in the eyes when he smiles at you. It wasn't hard to figure it out.”

Jin opens his mouth to protest, not to deny that something is going on between them, but to protest the idea that he goes soft-eyed whenever Taka smiles. After a second of reflection, he closes his mouth without saying a word. It's probably true, he thinks. He certainly _feels_ soft whenever Taka smiles to him. It's been happening more and more, over the past few weeks. The dark circles under Taka's eyes are getting fainter and he looks less haunted, less convinced that death is waiting for him around each and every corner.

“You be careful with my brother,” Yuna says when he doesn't answer, sharply.

“Yes,” Jin answers, immediately. “Always.”

Yuna leans back a little, considering him with a look on her face that could almost be called unfriendly. It's not a look Jin is used to getting from her and he draws himself straighter on his horse, hoping to pass muster.

“Taka's hasn't had an easy life,” she says, pointedly, and Jin nods. That much he knows, though he suspects what he has come to learn about Taka and Yuna's past is not the whole story. “He deserves something good.”

 _Are you_? Her silence adds and Jin looks down, his eyebrows furrowing. He's not sure he still considers himself a good man, not after everything he's done, but he can be good to Taka. That much is easy.

“I don't want to hurt him,” he ends up answering and Yuna gives him a flat, warning look.

“See that you don't,” she says, and it sounds more like a threat than anything else she's ever said to him. It makes Jin smile, despite the seriousness of the situation.

“Or I'll wake up with an arrow in my back?” he offers and she gives him a look, unimpressed.

“Something like that.”

***

When Jin makes it back to the village, he visits the forge and does not find Taka there. The other blacksmiths tell him that he's gone out to test a new prototype, but no-one knows where exactly. Stepping out of the forge, Jin looks up to the nearby mountain just in time to see a large swarm of blue butterflies descend, rapidly making way above the stream of water that powers the forge, and surrounding him with their softly-flapping insect wings. The butterflies pull away almost immediately, flying towards the mountain and then stopping there, as if waiting for him.

He's more used to foxes and golden birds showing him the way but Jin still follows, crossing the village and taking the winding path to the nearest mountain slowly. The butterflies weave between trees and boulders, spreading over a field of red flowers and then regrouping to lead the way up a steep path. They disperse abruptly when he gets to a plateau and glancing up, Jin can see that they led him to Taka.

The blacksmith is standing right in front of the stone face of the mountain with his sleeves rolled up, holding what looks like an iron hook with several feet of rope attached to it. He throws it up and it bounces off the stone wall and falls back down heavily, Taka yelping as he jumps back to avoid it.

Jin hears him grumble something to himself and put down that hook, taking up another instead and fiddling with it until he's satisfied, stepping closer to the mountain to try again. He throws the hook up against and it catches onto a branch that is conveniently poking out between two large rocks and holds there, even as Taka tugs hard on the rope. The hook doesn't budge and Taka endeavors to climb the mountain face, his arms straining as he pulls himself up the rope.

Watching with arched eyebrows, Jin thinks that he sometimes forgets Taka is actually quite strong. He's such a calm, gentle soul it's easy to forget that spending most of your time hammering metal in the stifling heat of a forge will forge both weapons and your character. Not to mention your arms.

Taka is very careful but he steadily makes his way to where the hook is stuck into wood, sitting on the small stone ledge there with a satisfied look on his face. He catches sight of Jin coming closer and grins down to him, bright and pleased.

“Jin! Your iron hook is ready, it works!” He pulls it free from the branch to show it to Jin. “It takes some work to get used to it, but you'll be able to climb anything. Including Castle Kaneda.”

“It's perfect,” Jin says, coming to a stop at the bottom of the mountain. He bites down a grin. “But how are you going to come down, now?”

Taka looks at the iron hook in his hand, and swears.

***

Jin helps Taka back down and he takes the iron hook to test it for himself, climbing up the mountain and swinging from one branch to another, carefully at first and then so quickly it makes Taka's stomach tie itself into knots. He can't help but call out Jin's name a few times, when it almost seems like the samurai won't be able to get the hook to hold in time before he plummets down to his death. Jin merely smiles and waves at him and Taka wonders if it was a mistake to make the grapple hook in the first place.

Jin comes back down and they sit together at the edge of the mountain, watching the sunset.

“With this, I will be able to take back Castle Kaneda and save my uncle,” Jin says after a while, looking at the iron hook in his hands. “I am in your debt, Taka.”

“No,” Taka says, immediately. “You are not. I owe you my life, my sister, the forge.” And this, whatever it is, between them, which is the happiest Taka has been since he was a child. “You owe me nothing.”

Jin bows his head in acknowledgment. “Thank you.” He leans in, and gives Taka a kiss.

***

Jin scales Castle Kaneda with the grapple hook and saves his uncle. Taka only hears about it the next day, because he was told this was too dangerous for him to follow and see for himself. He sees Lord Shimura on that day, the samurai obviously tired and troubled by his time with the Mongols, though he stands rigidly straight in his white kimono, his face disapproving.

He doesn't seem very grateful, is Taka's first impression. He's frowning, actually, and telling Jin that a samurai should not fight the way he does. A samurai should always attack the enemy straight on, and not conceal himself or use treacherous weapons. Jin bows and says he understands and will strive to do better, and it surprises Taka that Lord Shimura is willing to believe him. Even Taka knows that the way Jin fights is unlike any other samurai he has ever met and yet, what choice does he have? He cannot take down the entire Mongol army by fighting it honorably. That will only get him -and many other innocents- killed. He has to be cunning, he has to be the Ghost that strikes in the night, and everything that entails.

Lord Shimura seems unwilling to accept this, however, and Taka suspects this will lead to a painful argument. He stays away from the conversation, not meaning to intrude. Jin doesn't talk a lot about his family, but Taka knows he's lost both his father and his mother, and that Lord Shimura is the closest he has to a paternal figure. Jin spends the evening with his uncle and doesn't come to the forge that night.

Taka doesn't mention it in the morning, even if it was more difficult to find sleep on his own. When Jin comes to visit later on, quietly mentioning that he used all of his kunai, Taka makes more for him without asking any questions.

The next day, they ride for Yarikawa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun (?) fact: bowing in front of Taka's grave will make hundreds of blue butterflies come out and surround you :')


	5. Chapter 5

The next time they spend the night together is on the road to Yarikawa.

Jin's allies are following him but coming from different directions, so it's just Taka, Jin and Yuna, the latter often scouting ahead to see what lies in wait for them. 

It's a long ride, with frequent stops to hide from Mongol patrols if they are too large to take on. 

Taka spends most of it watching Jin ride on his beautiful dapple horse, leaning in to stroke his hand through the pampa grass gently whenever he can. They don't talk much but they do talk, and Jin keeps giving him small smiles when he thinks Yuna isn't looking. 

On the second day, they stop at an abandoned house for the night and Taka lights a small fire inside to stave off the cold and warm food up. Dinner is a quiet affair, Yuna offering to go and scout ahead for the night and make sure the path is clear tomorrow. Her tone of voice makes Taka hide his face behind his rice bowl. He appreciates her giving him some time alone with Jin, but the little grin she sends his way makes him flush. 

Jin doesn't seem to notice, merely tilting his head to the side at the suggestion. “Be careful,” he says, and finishes his meal. He steps out with Yuna to survey their immediate surroundings and make sure no-one is coming their way. 

On the first floor of the dilapidated house, where the roof is still mostly in one piece and the fireplace good enough to light a better fire for the night, Taka unrolls their pallets. When Jin comes back he is sitting by the fire, his headband off, combing through his hair slowly. 

Jin sits next to him and after a few seconds of silence, holds out his hand for the wooden comb. Taka gives it to him, expecting him to untie his samurai topknot and brush his own hair, but instead Jin leans over and gently runs the comb through Taka's. Taka stays very still, tilting his head into it to encourage the movement.

It's a nice feeling, Jin combing through his hair carefully, working the knots out with gentle fingers and smoothing down Taka's dark strands.

“Your sister knows about us,” Jin says after a while, quietly.

Taka nods, his eyes almost closed. “Does that bother you?” he returns in the same tone.

“No.” Jin is running his fingers through his hair now, more petting than combing. It takes Taka a while to realize that he's separating his hair into sections to braid it. “She did threaten to shoot me if I hurt you,” Jin adds, and Taka has to turn around to look at him, his eyebrows arched in surprise.

“She did what?”

Jin chuckles and nudges him back into position, slowly braiding his way through Taka's hair. “She said she would put an arrow in my back while I slept,” he explains, and Taka can hear that he's smiling.

“... I don't think she would,” is all he can think to answer, and Jin hums in a way that is neither agreeing nor disagreeing. Taka sighs. Trust Yuna to threaten the best warrior on the island for Taka's sake.

“I don't intend to find out,” Jin says, tying the braid with a small piece of thread. Taka reaches back to touch it and finds it smooth and even.

“Thank you,” he says, for the braid and the sentiment. “Where did you learn to do this?”

“My mother used to do it for me,” Jin answers, his eyes looking soft in the firelight. How a man that will rain death and destruction on a Mongol camp in a matter of minutes can also be so gentle is beyond Taka's understanding.

“Do you want me to do yours?” he offers instead and Jin just looks at him.

“No. I thought we could...” Jin turns around as he says this, going through his pack until he finds a small vial and setting it on the mat between them. 

Taka picks it up and holds it up to the light; it's sesame seed oil, the kind infused with cloves that Jin uses on his katana. Heat prickles at the back of Taka's neck, spreading to his cheeks and down his chest. His mouth goes dry and he swallows, attempting wryness. “Polish your katana?” he offers, weakly, and Jin chuckles, his dark eyes amused. 

“Not exactly. But only if you want to.” He reaches out, his fingers warm as they stroke up Taka's shoulder, settling on his jaw. “Do you want to, Taka?”

Taka leans closer, pressing his lips to Jin's, a reassurance. He nods, and Jin's other hand comes to rest on his jaw too, framing his face. 

“Do you have a preference?” Jin asks him, his voice very low, an intimate question that goes against his natural reserve. Taka is about to answer 'not rough' because truly, that is how he likes it best, when he realizes that's not what Jin's asking. 

His eyes go wide and he leans back a little, meeting Jin's steady gaze.

Taka has done what they're about to do with several men in his life, to more or less satisfying results. They'd asked if they could do this with him and sometimes, much worse, if they could do this _to_ him. None of them had ever offered to let Taka fuck them instead, if that was what Taka would prefer. It hadn't even occurred to him that it was a option.

“Do you?” he ends up returning, a stunned whisper. He puts his hands on Jin's knees, grounding himself.

To his credit Jin doesn't look away, though he does seem faintly embarrassed to be discussing something so personal. “I like it either way,” he says and Taka has to close his eyes against the rush of desire that goes through him.

The thought that he could just push Jin back, roll him over on the mat to have him and that Jin would _let_ him is very nearly overwhelming. He gives a quiet groan and pushes his face into the crook of Jin's shoulder, feeling him press a kiss to his temple.

“Taka?” he asks, stroking down his back, and Taka hums, leaning up to kiss him again.

“You do it,” Taka decides, between kisses. In the end, that's easier. He trusts Jin not to hurt him, and he doesn't want to have to worry about potentially messing up if he takes charge for the first time. He won't forget about Jin liking it 'either way', though. They can revisit that thought later.

“Don't go fast,” he adds, moving closer to the fire on his pallet and tugging at his yukata to bare himself. He's already getting hard from the idea of doing this with Jin. “It's been some time.” Jin watches him with dark eyes and nods, making quick work of his own clothes so they can lie down together naked in front of the fire, painted orange by its light.

***

What feels like an inordinate length of time later, Taka begins to wish he hadn't told Jin to go slow.

He knew Jin was a patient man, in battle and in life, but he wasn't expecting him to be _this_ patient.

It starts easily enough and Taka enjoys lying under Jin on his straw pallet, Jin's body heavy and warm on top of his, his cock a promising hard line against Taka's hip. They spend a long time kissing and touching and when Jin reaches for the oil, Taka is content to wrap one leg around his hip and let him do what he needs. 

He's grateful for how careful Jin is about it, slick fingers stroking against Taka and then pressing inside him, making him throw his head back. It barely hurts like this, the feeling mostly pressure, a burn that blends into something more enjoyable, desire starting to build inside him. 

Jin knows where to touch him inside and Taka groans quietly, his hips lifting. They're not kissing but Taka's mouth is against Jin's cheek, his lips parted against the scar there as he pants, trying to catch his breath. He can feel the rough texture of Jin's scar against his mouth and his stubble, rasping against his chin. He closes his eyes and focuses on relaxing.

After a while they end up kneeling together by the fire, Taka's back to Jin's chest, his knees spread wide enough that Jin's are between them. Jin has three fingers inside of him now, Taka thinks, though he suspects he lost count at some point. His other hand is also slick with oil, stroking Taka's cock very tight and very slow in a way that makes him moan and tremble. Taka's hips twitch up and into the touch every time but Jin doesn't go any faster, instead pushing his fingers deep inside, pressing against the spot that feels so good. 

Taka is sweating now, his whole body shaking with need, the braid Jin gently put in his hair coming loose. He leans his head back against Jin's shoulder, his eyes squeezed shut. “Jin,” he says, pleading. He doesn't know how much more he can take of this sweet torture, not with Jin showing no intention of hurrying things up.

“Now?” Jin whispers and Taka nods, eagerly. 

“Now,” he confirms, and as Jin shifts behind him, he adds, “ten minutes ago would have also worked.”

It makes Jin smile against his shoulder, which was precisely what Taka wanted. 

“You told me not to go fast,” Jin teases, and Taka can hear the slick sound of more oil being spread on skin. It makes him shiver. 

“I'm living to regret it,” he says shakily, and Jin chuckles, kissing up his neck.

“Take a deep breath,” Jin whispers against his ear and Taka does, only for it to catch in his chest when he feels the tip of Jin's cock press against his hole, blunt and hot. It takes a little insisting, Jin's hips rocking slowly, but Taka's body does open to afford it inside, the sensation making Taka gasp and groan. His hand goes into Jin's hair, tugging. 

“Easy,” Jin says and he sounds breathless too, slowly pressing forward. He keeps withdrawing, almost all the way before pushing back in a little deeper each time, working himself in inch by inch until he's fully seated, his hips against Taka's ass. And _then_ he flexes his hips again, trying to get just that little bit deeper, and Taka could cry at how good it feels. 

They stay still for a few seconds, breathing together, and Taka half-deliriously thinks that he's going to come as soon as Jin starts moving. The thought makes him clench down around Jin hard and a little viciously, retaliating. Jin gasps and his hips buck, harder than he probably meant. It doesn't hurt and Taka groans, rocking in turn, encouraging Jin to move. From there things get too heated to be coordinated, hands grabbing tightly, hips moving together.

In the end Taka was right and it only takes one spectacularly well-angled thrust to make him come, pleasure going up his spine like a bolt of lightning. He comes hard enough for the world to go gray around them, his entire body seizing up with heat and pleasure. He's not sure but he thinks he cries out at how it feels, too caught in the moment to worry about someone hearing him.

He pitches forward onto his elbows and knees bonelessly and presses his forehead to the straw of his pallet, letting Jin hold him tightly at the waist and fuck him until he reaches his own orgasm, groaning low in his throat. It sends jolts of over-sensitive pleasure to Taka's spent cock but he's way too gone to complain about  it, working on trying to get his breath back, blood rushing in his ears. 

Jin gradually goes still on top of him and Taka can hear him curse, quietly. He hums in agreement, relaxing as Jin's hands stop gripping his hips so tightly and stroke up his sides apologetically instead. He withdraws slowly and Taka makes a quiet noise at how that feels, rolling to his side. 

“Did I hurt you?” Jin asks, one hand on Taka's thigh, concern obvious in his voice. 

“No,” Taka says, and muffles a yawn against his shoulder. “But I will feel this riding tomorrow.” He smiles as he says it, turning his head to look at Jin and giving a pleased hum when Jin leans in to kiss him, settling down next to him. Jin presses their foreheads together and they just breathe for a long time, Taka's cheek in Jin's palm. 

“Let's go wash in the river,” Jin offers suddenly, and Taka looks at him like he's lost his mind. 

“It'll be freezing!” he protests, though he's filthy with sweat and oil and come and would love a bath.

“We can warm up in front of the fire,” Jin tells him with a grin. He stands up and damn him, Taka follows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I google 'oils used in medieval Japan' for this chapter?  
> Yes.  
> And then did I google 'can you use sesame seed oil as lube' ?  
> Also yes.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I return! This is the longest chapter I've written for this story and it's like 95% porn so, erm, enjoy :)

The road to Yarikawa is long, and keeps getting longer every day as Jin answers multiple cries for help, from peasants who saw their farms invaded to, as they get closer to the city, a musician sending him on a wild quest to learn an ancient fighting technique. It's wearing him thin, Taka thinks, though Jin does not complain.

The nearer they get to Yarikawa, the more familiar things start to become, and Taka isn't sure he likes it. He has mixed feelings about the town. It holds most of his childhood memories, but many of these are not exactly pleasant. On the last day of their journey he can see the ruins of old Yarikawa in the distance, and he remembers playing there with Yuna when they were very young, hiding from their mother.

They stop at an inn that night, and Taka actually knows that inn. His mother took him there once, when she came to chat and drink with her friends. He remembers sitting in a corner of that large, dimly lit room, and watching as she got progressively redder and angrier.

The room doesn't seem so large now that he is an adult, and the mood is considerably less raucous. The subdued innkeep serves them rice that is tough and chewy, and very little fish.

After dinner, Yuna retreats to her room to sleep. She bought only two rooms for the night, which means he will be sharing with Jin again. Hopefully there will be more between them and the other patrons than a paper screen door.

As the day slowly declines, Taka sits on a fence and watches Jin practice the Dance of Wrath. It's a difficult technique to master, that much he can tell, and it takes a lot of focus and precision. It will easily strike two, perhaps three enemies down in an instant still, so he can see why Jin would want to perfect it.

The moon rises slowly and Jin wipes his sweaty forehead, cleaning his katana carefully and giving Taka a small smile. “I will take a bath,” he decides, “and then join you.” He comes to stand a little too close for propriety and Taka has to bite down a smile.

“My lord,” he says in agreement, bowing.

Jin gives him an amused look, and they make back to the inn together.

***

Their room does feature a paper screen door, Taka finds as he settles down for the night, but there is no-one on the other side of it. Not many people are traveling at such a dangerous time, and the few who are often prefer camping in the woods.

Yuna, he thinks, is downstairs.

Taka lights an oil lamp and sits down by the window, watching the green fireflies dance above the swampy field of white flowers outside.

Jin comes back from his bath quickly enough, most of his armor off, his hair curling wetly around his ears. It reminds Taka of seeing him at the onsen, that very first time. He's also wearing what Taka has come to identify as his 'I am about to ask for something I want but do not know how to put into words' look. It's a look Taka is growing pretty fond of.

When Jin comes closer, Taka can see that he'd holding something in his hands. It turns out to be a length of rope, the kind probably used to tie farm animals. Befuddled, Taka looks up to Jin's face, and actually finds a little color there, high on his cheeks. Perhaps it was the bath or more likely, Jin is embarrassed by what he's about to ask.

It's endearing to watch this particular man struggle to word what he wants, and Taka almost smiles, beckoning him closer. He motions for Jin to sit next to him, considering the rope again and suddenly realizing what it probably means. Jin's eyes linger on Taka, flick to the rope, and then to the low beam running along the wall behind them.

Taka's chest goes very hot, and then very cold.

The first thought that comes to his mind is that he's going to need to tell Jin no.

He doesn't want to; it's been hard enough to make Jin understand that it's acceptable for him to want things and to ask for what he wants, no matter how strange or how shameful it might seem to him. And yet, he's going to need to. There aren't many things Taka would deny Jin, and though he likes him – loves him, at this point, though he hasn't let himself truly think about it – this, he cannot give.

“I can't,” he whispers after a few tense seconds, bitting on his lip.

Jin draws himself straighter, his eyes sharp as his eyebrows furrow. He tilts his head to the side interrogatively. He looks stung, but not angry. He also looks like he will not push at all, though Taka didn't really expect him to.

“It's not that I don't trust you,” Taka says, quickly. “I do. I know you wouldn't hurt me. But it's been... the Mongols, and before that the work camps, I-” He sighs, looking down. “I've been a prisoner more times than I can count, Jin. Being bound, I wouldn't... I don't think I would enjoy it.” Taka feels vulnerable and helpless often enough in his everyday life, he isn't sure he wants to bring this feeling to bed. But perhaps that is not something Jin would understand.

When he dares to look up Jin's eyes are dark and he looks surprised, and ashamed, which is not what Taka wants at all. He reaches out, taking Jin's hand. “It's not that unusual a thing to ask from a lover. You couldn't know.”

Jin says nothing, his eyebrows still furrowed.

“Jin,” Taka prompts, gently.

“It's not,” Jin starts, his voice quiet, a little halting, “what I wanted to ask.” It's Taka's turn to be taken aback. Did he read the entire thing wrong? “Not exactly,” Jin specifies and there it is again, the color in his cheeks.

“Tell me,” Taka requests, softly.

“I thought you might use it on me,” Jin says, of the rope, and Taka's eyes go wide. He doesn't know what to say for a few long seconds and Jin watches him, holding his hand. “Would that bring back painful memories too?”

“...no,” Taka says, faintly. “No, I don't think it would.”

Jin leans closer to catch his eyes. “You thought I wanted it the other way around,” he says, and Taka knows what he means. He means to ask whether it is strange, for him, to want it like this.

That takes more time to think about, Taka putting his other hand over Jin's, mulling it over. “I think,” he says, at length. He makes sure to keep his voice very gentle. “I think you have to make a lot of decisions. Every day, you have to choose what is the best course of action, and you have to choose right. If you do not, people sometimes die.”

Jin sighs through his nose slowly and Taka strokes his fingers over the rough skin of his bruised knuckles.

“Perhaps it will be good for you, not to have to make any decisions for a little while.” Not to have to cling so tightly to your control, and forget about your responsibilities, Taka adds in his mind, but he does not say it. Being a samurai weighs heavily on Jin, he knows, especially since he is driven to break his code of honor so often.

Jin looks thoughtful, as if he hadn't actually thought about it in these terms, but cannot find fault to them.

“I will do it, if you want,” Taka adds quietly and Jin nods, his face serious. Taka has to lean in and give him a kiss. “What would you like me to do with you, when you are bound?” he asks after the kiss breaks, his lips brushing against Jin's.

“Anything you want,” Jin answers, very steadily, and Taka shudders, his forehead coming to rest on Jin's shoulder. He hums and forces himself to lean back to look into Jin's dark eyes. “If you tell me to untie you, I will,” Taka says, making sure his tone is intent. “If you want me to stop doing something, and do something else, I will.” He squeezes Jin's hand. “I won't ask questions. Just say so.”

Jin nods, and he looks like he hadn't even considered Taka might want to continue anything he wouldn't be comfortable with. It makes Taka's chest ache and warm. He draws himself away, reaching for the rope. “Go on,” he tells Jin, nodding at the wall, and Jin stares for a few seconds before he slowly crawls back, settling on the straw pallet closest to the low beam.

“Hands above your head,” Taka tells him, gently, and Jin doesn't even hesitate. He crosses his arms at the wrists and presses them against the beam. Taka comes closer and slowly binds him there, careful not to do it too tightly. He's good enough with knots that he can make sure Jin will not escape.

“Too tight?” he asks, and Jin shakes his head mutely. “Good. Try to free yourself.”

Jin struggles against the rope, not very hard at first and then, progressively, as hard as he can, his chest and arms twisting. He's panting when he stops and Taka just watches him, taking in the way sweat is beading at his hairline and his eyes are dark and hot.

When he unfolded the rope, a small stripe of silky fabric fell down and Taka picks it up now, considering it. It's one of the many headbands Jin keeps finding everywhere, entirely black. It had been tucked inside the coils of the rope, like an afterthought, and Taka holds it up, his eyebrows arched. Jin's nostrils flare and he swallows, hard, but closes his eyes for it.

Taka leans in and ties the blindfold around his head, making sure to cover his eyes and not pull at his hair. Then he sits back, and considers Jin.

He's a picture, lying there with his hands tied above his head, red spreading on his cheekbones, his heaving chest bared where his kimono slipped open as he struggled. Taka moves closer and Jin tilts his head, listening. He can probably tell what is happening fairly accurately - Taka has seen him pinpoint Mongols on the other side of a house using his hearing only- but there is still a helplessness that comes with being robbed of your sight, Taka knows.

He reaches out slowly, putting his hand over Jin's chest, finding bare skin. Jin does not startle but his heartbeat is fast under Taka's palm, and he feels hot to the touch. Leaning in, Taka gives him a soft kiss, light and not lingering, despite the way Jin's head lifts hopefully to follow his lips.

It makes Taka smile and he watches Jin settle back down after he understands he's being denied, his eyebrows furrowing a little under the blindfold.

Taka takes his time to touch him, his fingers gentle as they tug Jin's hair free under the blindfold, pushing into the soft, warm strands, pulling just a little. He touches Jin's blind face, cupping his jaw, thumbs against his sharp cheekbones. Jin leans into it, his chin going up and his lips parting again, asking for another kiss, and Taka indulges him this time.

They're both breathless when he pulls away, and Taka tugs at what is left of Jin's clothes to bare his chest entirely, fingers digging into the muscle of his shoulders, gripping Jin tightly, his mouth brushing against Jin's chest.

Jin's nipples aren't very sensitive, Taka's found, but he thinks he could probably build enough sensation there if he did it for long enough, and there is nothing stopping him from trying at the moment. So he strokes his palms down Jin's sides and holds him at the hips while he alternates between pressing kisses to his nipples, teasing gently with his teeth, rubbing with his bearded cheek, and licking slowly with the flat of his tongue. It does work and after a while Jin's nipples are hard pebbles against Taka's lips and he starts to shudder, making a startled little noise of pleasure when Taka sucks him there, slow and gentle.

The bulge in Jin's trousers is growing frankly obscene and Taka reaches down to cup him through the fabric, squeezing hard enough to make Jin's hips lift from the ground entirely, pressing into his touch. Jin makes another choked noise of pleasure, all helpless desire, and tugs hard at the rope. It holds fast, and a strange rush of power goes to Taka's head so quickly it leaves him dizzy.

He takes his hand away and Jin bites on his full lower lip, his hips rocking, thighs pressing together to try and get a little friction. Taka reaches to pull his waistband loose and tug his trousers down and off, leaving him bare. Then he sits back, and gives Jin nothing.

It's cruel, perhaps, and Taka wonders if this is a bad thing for him to enjoy, watching Jin lie there helplessly, his face red, his chest rising and falling quickly, his cock hard and thick against his stomach. Jin doesn't complain about it still, and Taka suspects he's enjoying this too, enjoying his own helplessness, despite the way his whole body is tensing up with arousal.

Eventually Taka takes pity on him and he moves closer, stroking his palms across Jin's body again, teasing at his sensitized nipples, brushing his knuckles along his cock gently. He puts both his hands on Jin's hips and holds him down very firmly as he bends his head and licks along his cock with the flat of his tongue, wet and slow. He gives the tip the filthiest kiss he can manage, listening to the way Jin's breathing grows ragged, and takes him in, hollowing his cheeks.

He'd learned what works for Jin and what doesn't by now and gives him what he wants, slowly pulling up and down, his tongue pressed tightly against the soft skin of Jin's cock. He pauses to tease with his lips often, the way he's found always makes Jin's thighs tremble, and then goes back down, unhurried but steady. He can tell Jin's pleasure is building, the muscles in his belly and thighs shifting, his neck cording, his chin tipping back.

Right when Taka thinks they might be getting to the point of no return, he pulls up, and lets go of Jin entirely. The noise Jin lets out is both shocked and pitiful, a surprised hiss that turns into a shaky exhale. He licks his lips and lifts his head, managing to look interrogative despite the blindfold, like he thinks he's done something wrong to deserve this.

He doesn't ask though and Taka says nothing, letting him work out that this is how it feels, to have absolutely no control over this kind of situation. Jin's head settles back down at length and he takes a deep breath, consciously relaxing his body. His cock is still so hard it probably aches but he's breathing steadily, the little jerks of his hips subsiding. That's when Taka finally moves to touch him, a glancing touch, just the pads of his fingers along the length of his thigh, making him shiver. He does the same to Jin's other thigh, before moving to his chest. A light touch, almost ticklish, enough to stimulate but not enough to appease.

Jin's lips part again and Taka can see his heartbeat pick up at the vein in his throat, his back arching as Taka's palm joins his fingers, stroking down Jin's hard belly. He leans in again, letting Jin feel his breath against his cock first before he takes him in. Jin moans quietly and Taka goes slow, striving to make it good, giving Jin exactly what he needs. But then again, when he thinks he's reaching his peak, pulling off.

This time the noise Jin makes is wounded, like someone punched him in the chest. Taka hums and puts his hand on Jin's thigh to steady him, feeling the muscle there jump under his touch. Jin is gasping by now, his cock leaking steadily onto his own stomach, wet from Taka's mouth and his own pre-come, pooling into his belly button.

He's trying to ground himself and failing, his hips rocking up to no avail, his breathing short and ragged. He looks unsteady and Taka wants to unravel him completely, wants to undo him until there is nothing left in him but the need to come. It's not a desire he's ever felt before, not with Jin and not with anyone, and the intensity of it is startling.

He doesn't stop to think about it though, looking around the room for something he might use to push Jin further, to shock him into crying out, into pleading, perhaps. His eyes stop on Jin's weapons, carefully set aside for the night. He stands up and walks away, stopping in the corner of the room, considering. He's never touched Jin's katana before. It's beautiful, and sharp, and Taka would never dare.

The tanto, however.

He picks it up and brings it back to where Jin is still desperately trying to catch his breath. He steps closer to straddle Jin's body, sitting down on his thighs to keep him still, and unsheathes the weapon. It makes a soft, wooden noise, the blade gleaming in the dark.

Jin goes entirely still.

Taka watches him, wondering if he's miscalculated, if the idea of having someone leaning over him with a sharp blade will be more worrying than arousing to Jin. It's a very real possibility and for a second, Taka regrets bringing this into an evening that was going so well.

And then Jin starts breathing again with a hitched noise, his throat bobbing as he swallows. He says nothing to get Taka to lay down the blade and Taka brings it closer instead, resting the flat of it against Jin's belly, careful not to cut him. The shiver that goes through Jin is so intense Taka can see it, even if Jin tamps down his reaction, trying not to move.

Taka knows how sharp Jin's tanto is so he will only use the dull side of it to draw patterns on Jin's skin, the blade pressing cold kisses to Jin's belly, his chest, his nipples. Jin keeps shuddering, his mouth open over quick pants, making a muffled noise when Taka gently rasps the dull edge of the blade along his cock, from root to tip. It probably doesn't feel that nice but the idea of it seems to arouse Jin, his cock dripping slowly.

“Taka,” Jin whispers and he sounds pleading now, he sounds desperate, and the wild rush of getting the Ghost of Tsushima to beg goes straight to Taka's head. He strokes Jin's tanto up the length of his body, all the way up to his throat, resting it against the divot between Jin's collarbones. Jin's head slowly goes back, baring his neck for the blade.

As Taka presses the dull edge of the tanto against Jin's throat, he feels a kind of power he's never felt in his life. He would never hurt Jin, and would honestly rather die than cut his throat, and yet right now he very well _could_ , and the idea has a strange, violent appeal.

“Taka,” Jin whispers again and Taka pulls the blade away, setting it on the ground next to them before he grows too dizzy with this newfound control.

“Jin,” Taka answers, and he reaches down to adjust himself, feeling how hard he's grown in his own trousers, the way his own arousal is simmering in the pit of his stomach.

“Are you...” Jin asks, and his throat clicks as he swallows. “Are you touching yourself?” he asks and Taka realizes that he _is._ He only meant to adjust himself in his trousers, but then his hand stayed there against his best judgment, palm rubbing against his cock. He's so hard; it feels so good.

“You've no idea how you look, Jin,” Taka whispers in return, his voice shaky.

Jin's lips part and he licks them absent-mindedly. “Do it,” he demands, quietly. His thighs fall open a little wider and his back arches, offering himself for Taka to watch. Taka is still for a second before he's furiously tugging at the fabric of his belt and getting his trousers to open, wrapping his fingers around himself.

“The things you let me _do_ , Jin,” he says as he strokes himself, making sure to be as noisy as possible. Jin shivers visibly at the slick sound of Taka's hand on his cock, his own twitching in envy. “I could do anything I wanted to you. Look at you, you'd let me.” Jin lets out a small noise at this but he doesn't argue, his thighs trembling a little against Taka's knees.

“You're so,” Taka says, his eyes moving between Jin's red face, his heaving chest, his tense arms, his spread thighs. He gasps. “Beautiful.” It's not exactly the word he wants but then he's coming rather abruptly and it will be the only thing he says for a while. Heat surges through him, hard enough to leave light-headed, his release rushing out of him and leaving him winded. He doesn't try not to make a mess because he thinks Jin _wants_ the mess, and his come paints a hot stripe across Jin's stomach, making him jerk as if struck.

By the time Taka comes to his senses Jin is shaking badly, his entire body coiled with tension. His fingers are white where he's clenching them into fists, and his wrists are red from pulling at the ropes. He's panting, quiet but desperate, and his chest is gleaming with sweat in the dim light of the candle. His cock keeps dripping, adding to the mess Taka put on his belly. He looks utterly ruined, and Taka would be lying if he said he didn't love it.

He won't make Jin plead again though, not when he's been so trustful, so generous with himself.

“Jin,” he whispers, and Jin makes a pitiful noise at the back of his throat. Taka leans in and down, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead. “Don't scream,” he warns, and wraps his fingers around Jin's cock carefully. He can't even imagine how it'll feel to be touched after being teased for so long and Jin bucks like he's been shocked, clenching his jaw to muffle a shout.

Taka strokes him slow and easy, mindful of how achingly wanting Jin is now, murmuring words of encouragement against his ear. Jin comes just as Taka starts to speed up, with a deep groan that sounds almost like a sob. It lasts for a long, long time, Jin's hips bucking and his cock twitching in Taka's hand, and Taka strokes, and strokes, and strokes until Jin falls back onto the straw pallet, exhausted and breathless.

“There,” Taka says, softly. He stays on top of Jin, his knees still bracketing his hips, and keeps their cheeks pressed together, letting Jin catch his breath. Against Taka's temple, the blindfold is damp.

“I'll clean you up,” Taka whispers, and he gets up carefully, wary of head rush. Jin doesn't ask to be untied and Taka doesn't offer. He returns with a basin of clean water and a washcloth and does Jin's face first, untying the blindfold carefully and running the washcloth over Jin's forehead, his cheeks, his closed eyes, his lips.

Then he does Jin's neck, his shoulders, his arms, washing away the sweat and tension there. His chest and groin are the worst of it and Taka keeps them for last, scrubbing gently until he has removed every bit of stickiness from Jin's skin. He sets the cloth aside and looks up to find Jin watching him, his eyes hooded slits.

“I'll untie you,” Taka offers and Jin nods, his eyes falling shut again.

“It's going to hurt,” Taka warns, gently. “You pulled too hard. I'll get you some of that salve you use on your wounds, but it's going to bruise all the same.”

Jin doesn't answer. Taka knows he's heard him, but Jin seems to be very far away at the moment. He doesn't make a sound as Taka unties him and massages feeling back into his fingers, getting the salve from Jin's pack and carefully working it into Jin's skin where it is red and angry. His eyes stay closed when Taka wraps his kimono closed again and pulls a thin blanket over him. He's completely pliant in Taka's hands, and easily rolls to his side so Taka can curl behind him.

“Jin?” Taka whispers, his face against the nape of Jin's neck. Jin makes a soft humming noise and reaches out to hold Taka's hand where it is resting against his chest. Taka smiles. “Good,” he says and Jin hums in agreement, promptly falling asleep.

***

In the morning, Taka sits down for breakfast and Yuna gives him the evil eye. She can't have heard much from downstairs, Taka thinks, but what little she heard was probably more than enough.

“Where's Jin?” she asks, eating through her rice quickly. The samurai is usually up before them.

“Resting,” Taka tells her, because that is how he left Jin, curled under the blankets and snoring softly. Yuna's eyebrows arch and Taka gets the impression that she's actually begrudgingly impressed that whatever Taka did to him last night tired him out enough to make him sleep in.

They finish their breakfast and have another cup of tea, looking up when Jin finally comes down the ladder, as nimble and quiet as usual. He nods to both of them, apparently not much in a talking mood, and gives Taka a very soft smile. He seems calmer than the day before, less worn thin by the weight of his responsibilities, rested and focused. He reaches for his breakfast and around both his wrists are rings of bruises, faded reds and blooming blues.

Jin doesn't seem to notice but Yuna's eyebrows arch up so high they almost disappear under her headband. “Well,” is all she says and Taka grins into his cup of tea, trying not to look too smug.


	7. Chapter 7

They free Yarikawa. Taka isn't entirely sure how they manage to pull that off, but it's one wild plan after the other: using their old secret entrance through the waterfall and improbably managing to sneak into the city despite the army of Mongols surrounding it, the Yarikawa lord turning his nose up at them and the people spitting at their feet until they rescue the archers (Taka can still feel himself tremble when he thinks about getting attacked by that bear), coming back to fight for the city with Jin heading their small, mismatched group to victory.

It's an ugly fight, full of noise and fire and blood, so disorienting Taka loses sight of enemies and allies alike many times, blinking in the smoke and confusion of bodies and swords clashing all around him. It's terrifying but he stands his ground, even managing to deal a few blows to distracted Mongol soldiers and escaping with only bruises and shallow cuts despite his uncertain footwork and the shaky way he holds his sword.

It's not Taka's first battle but it's the first one he's actually fought and not run away from, and he isn't sure how he feels about it. Brave would be too kind a word to call himself after this. His bravery stinks of fear and regret, and he can't quite congratulate himself for fighting when he never wants to put himself in that position again. He suspects he will, still, and it twists his stomach into knots just thinking about it.

Jin, as always, is magnificent.

Taka catches glimpses of him as he's helping villagers run to safety and dispatching Mongols as well as he can, his eyes constantly returning to the front lines where Jin is standing with a few Yarikawa archers. The samurai moves so fast he almost blurs, the Dance of Wrath taking out three enemies in an instant, staggering two more with kunai and promptly slicing their throats open.

He disappears when fire starts raining onto the city, apparently managing to cross an entire Mongol camp to disable their siege machines on the hill, and coming back just in time to face a Mongol general and his burning sword. Temuge, his name is, and Taka has heard the people of Yarikawa whisper of his cruelty.

Jin dispatches him so quickly it is almost comical, his posture rigid and practice-perfect as he slashes through Temuge's neck, sending his head flying to the side. While the Mongolian soldiers recoil in terror, something seems to happen to Jin. He draws himself tall and holds his sword high above his head, a stance he's never tried to teach Taka about. It leaves him entirely open to attacks but the Mongols aren't attacking him at all, scrambling to flee, and he cuts through them like they are nothing.

He runs after them with the archers and the people of Yarikawa pour out of their hiding places and into the streets, whispering to each other about this samurai, a vengeful spirit come to save them, the _Ghost_. When Jin returns, splattered with blood and mud from head to toe and his eyes blazing coldly in the dark, a hush descends. His voice is entirely human as he speaks though, and the fact that he is asking for help, for _their_ help, shocks the villagers into seeing him as something else than a spirit of war made into flesh.

In the end they only need a little push to rally and agree to be Jin's army (not Clan Sakai's, that name still carries the stink of repressing their rebellion, but the Ghost's), and Taka is happy to provide it. He rallies first when they are hesitating, and bows deeply in front of Jin, with a respect and awe that sleeping with the man for weeks hasn't diminished in the slightest.

***

After the battle, there is a celebration. Taka isn't sure it is appropriate when they will bury many dead in the morning and their food supplies are limited, but he goes nonetheless. It's a subdued celebration but there is food, warmth, and camaraderie, and many people clap Taka on the back and congratulate him for his fighting. Taka is still unsure that he deserves such praise, but Jin is watching him from across the room with dark, pleased eyes, and he doesn't dare protest.

As they finish eating Kenji suddenly comes out of nowhere, throwing his arms up in celebration and declaring that he has brought enough sake for everyone that fought for the Ghost and would be delighted to share. When he sees Taka he shakes him by the shoulders and tells him that he is proud, and presses a gourd of sake in his hands.

From then on it is round after round of Kenji's very good sake, much cheering and even some singing, and Taka doesn't even realize that Jin has left before Yuna comes to tell him that she will be heading for bed early, and warns him against drinking himself sick.

***

It is much later when Taka finds his way through the winding Yarikawa streets in the dark, headed for the small house he knows they have given the Ghost for the night. It used to belong to one of the Yarikawa archers they tried to save, and his neighbors were too happy to offer it for Lord Sakai to use for the night.

It's a good thing Taka remembers that part of town so well because he is passably drunk, and stumbles on the wooden stairs that lead up the house gracelessly, pressing his hand to the paper screen door to steady himself. He slides the door open and steps in without knocking, and it occurs to him that this is the first time he's initiated joining Jin for the night.

He's always been quite happy to welcome Jin when he sneaked into his room late at night -and bore no resentment when he didn't- but he's never been the one to offer it, the one that came through the dark to see if he would be accepted. If he were any less drunk he might not even have dared, despite everything he has shared with Jin already.

The front room is cold and dark but Taka can see firelight in the adjoining bedroom, and hear the soft metallic sound he's come to recognize as Jin sharpening his katana. He moves carefully to make sure he doesn't stumble again, and pushes the second paper screen door open to get into the bedroom.

Jin looks up, seemingly unsurprised to see him, and gives him a small smile. He's removed his armor, cleaned it and carefully set it aside for the night, and is indeed sharpening his blade by the light of the fireplace. “I think I heard Kenji singing,” Jin says, his eyebrows arching in amusement. “How much sake did he bring?”

“Enough,” Taka says with a snort, stepping closer since Jin doesn't seem to object to his being here. “Though not enough for us to listen to his singing.” He sits next to Jin, a little unsteadily, listing towards the fire. “You didn't stay.” It's not exactly a question but Taka arches his eyebrows at Jin interrogatively. People had noticed the Ghost's absence at the celebration of his own victory.

“I couldn't drink,” Jin says steadily, finishing up with his katana and setting it aside. “I spent last night drinking too much of that Yarikawa brew with your sister. Just thinking about sake made my stomach turn.”

Taka can't help but chuckle, softly. “That thing will do that to you. It explains why Yuna didn't stay, either. She had one sip of sake and then went to bed.”

It's only when Jin's hands come to rest on his cheeks, cupping his face to steady him, that Taka realizes he's closed his eyes for a few seconds and pitched towards Jin, a little dizzy. “How much have _you_ had?” Jin asks him, sounding amused, and Taka hums.

“Too much. But not so much that I don't know what I'm doing.” And what Taka is doing is leaning up to give Jin a soft kiss, his eyes falling back shut. Jin kisses him back warmly, putting his arms around Taka's chest and holding him up when Taka sags against him. They lie down on the goza mat together, Jin's fingers gentle as he plucks Taka's headband from his head and sets it aside, smoothing down his hair.

Taka is slow and warm with sake, stroking across Jin's chest with obvious pleasure though the look on his face is almost absent-minded. “When you fought Temuge,” he says, as Jin kisses along his jaw, making him pause. “After. I didn't know that stance,” he says and Jin hums in response, leaning away to look at him in the eye.

“It's not one I've been taught either,” Jin reveals, his voice low. “It felt right, but I won't be using it often. It only works if your enemy is already running away, otherwise it's too dangerous.”

Taka nods and he's quiet for a while, Jin watching him as he tugs at his own yukata clumsily and pulls it open. “I fought too,” Taka says, starting on his fabric belt to get rid of his trousers. He seems to notice that Jin is still fully dressed and shifts to work on that instead, his fingers unsteady but determined.

“I know, I saw you,” Jin tells him, gently. Taka's fingers pause on his chest.

“I was scared,” Taka adds quietly, lowering his eyes. “I didn't want to be there.”

“I know,” Jin says again, covering Taka's hands with his own. “I saw that too. You were shaking. But you stayed.”

Taka nods, slowly. He _had_ stayed. For the first time in his life, he'd looked at death in the face, and decided it was worth chancing it.

“I'll keep training you,” Jin volunteers, when Taka says nothing more. “It'll get a little easier. I can even teach you how to cope with the fear, if you'd like.”

Taka makes a non-committal noise and he starts again on Jin's clothes, pushing at him until Jin helps him take them all off. “I was proud of you, watching you fight,” Jin says at some point and Taka has to stop again, blinking several times because his eyes are starting to burn with emotion.

“Do you mind?” he returns, a little testily, gesturing at Jin's naked body. He's trying to get somewhere here, and it's not going to happen if Jin keeps saying such things.

“We could just sleep,” Jin suggests and Taka scoffs, arching his eyebrows at him. It makes Jin grin and kiss him again, even as he rolls on top of him on the mat.

It's a good kiss and Taka lets himself relax into it, his hands on Jin's shoulders. It's warm between them and the fire and for a while Taka just enjoys the press of Jin's naked body against his own, rocking slowly, spreading his thighs to bring Jin closer when he feels himself getting hard.

Jin makes a quiet noise of pleasure, kissing across his chest, and Taka is quite content to lie back and let him do whatever he wishes. Which is how he ends up with Jin's mouth on his cock, taking him in so slowly and sweetly, even as he ruthlessly drives three fingers inside of him over and over again, curling them in a way that makes Taka tremble with need and muffle his own cries against the palm of his hand.

Jin takes him just like this, with Taka's thighs spread wide around his hips and his fingers tight on his shoulders, slow and steady until Taka curses him and tells him to go harder.

He comes with his head back and Jin's name on his lips.

***

Jin leaves on the next day and Taka stays in Yarikawa, working at the forge to build better armor and weapons for the small army that will fight in the Ghost's name.

He doesn't mind. He feels relatively safe in the city, even with all the memories that keep resurfacing every time he goes anywhere. He visits the house Yuna and he used to live in with her mother, the garden where they used to play, his then best friend's place. Finding out that Shinsuke, the blacksmith that used to let Taka use his metal scraps to practice forging, is gone makes him sad and he spends a long time praying over his grave, thanking the man for everything he has done for him.

It's good to work at a forge again and to be useful, even if making endless supplies of arrowheads and repairing broken armor isn't exactly challenging. He will make a new armor for Jin, he decides after a few days. Something he can wear when he steals through the night to slit the Mongols' throats in the dark, quieter and lighter than his clan armor. It takes a long time to pick the proper materials and find a balance between protection and stealth, but it keeps Taka busy so that he does not worry too much about what Jin is doing.

Yuna finds him at the forge a week later, leaning against the wall to watch him work.

“Jin's back,” she says, casually, and Taka very nearly drops his hammer. He gives her a flat look and she grins to him innocently.

“How is he?” he asks, his tone careful.

“Not injured. He was tired, though. I don't know what happened but he said he needed to spend the day meditating. I think he found one of his haiku-writing spots.”

Despite his concern Taka can't help but make a face, and Yuna chuckles. “Last I heard, he hasn't gotten any better at it.”

Taka makes a small noise of protest, though he can't really disagree. As much as he loves and respects Jin -and he does- he has to admit that his haiku poems are terrible. They seem to help him focus still, so Taka can hardly begrudge him for writing them.

Taka sets his hammer down, giving up on the arrowheads for now.

“North of the city,” Yuna tells him, helpfully. “Near the waterfall.”

***

Finding Jin is easy enough; he's sitting very straight on a flat boulder in the middle of a sea of white flowers, his katana carefully laid out in front of him. Taka comes to sit next to him, their shoulders touching. From the corners of his eyes, he can see Jin smile.

“Let's hear it, then,” he says, and Jin looks over to him with his eyebrows arched, before glancing back at the landscape. “This is a reflection on perseverance,” he announces very seriously, and Taka makes an agreeable noise.

The haiku that follows isn't objectively dreadful, but it's not good, either. A little disjointed, lacking the clever twist that usually makes a haiku striking. It's a good thing Jin isn't looking to become a poet, Taka thinks, and it must show on his face because Jin snorts, grinning to him.

“I tried,” he says, sounding amused, and Taka nods.

“Yes. It was very …nice, my lord,” he answers, biting down a laugh, and Jin tumbles him down into the pampa grass in retaliation.

They don't make it back to Yarikawa before it is evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, I am projecting my own poor haiku writing skills onto Jin.  
> no, I will not take criticism about this.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for characters talking about Taka's backstory of child abuse (the abuse isn't described in any way)

“Don't say anything,” Jin warns as he steps into the Yarikawa forge and Taka turns around with his hammer still in his hand, his eyebrows arched. Jin looks normal as far as he can tell, a little battle-weary, some mud and blood caked on the panes of his armor where he hasn't cleaned it yet. 

Then the smell hits. 

“Why do you smell like the bottom of sake barrel?” Taka asks, slowly beginning to grin. Jin looks more disgruntled than drunk, and Taka senses there is a good story there. 

“Kenji,” Jin says, like it's explanation enough. Perhaps it is. 

Taka tries to bite down a laugh and, from the look on Jin's face, fails. “I'll help you clean up,” he says instead, and Jin glowers stoically all the way to the baths. 

Later on, as he's carefully untying the many knots keeping Jin's armor together, Taka learns about Kenji's brilliant plan to hide the Ghost in an empty sake barrel and laughs so much picturing the look on Jin's face he almost falls into the onsen. 

***

“I have a favor to ask,” Jin tells Taka a few days later, as they are having rice for breakfast. Taka nods easily, taking a sip from his tea. He will do as Jin asks without question. 

“I went to Omi village, the other day. They don't have a blacksmith anymore and they're running out of arrows and farming tools. They've got the supplies at the monastery, just no one to work the forge.” Jin's eyes are careful and Taka can't immediately understand why. Of course he'll go, if Jin thinks he should. “I will return this week, you could come with me and stay a few days.”

“I'll come,” Taka volunteers, giving Jin a small smile. Then he waits, and lets Jin work through whatever he wants to say. It comes after only a few seconds, much faster than it used to take Jin to word his feelings when they started this. Taka is proud of him. 

“I was born in Omi village,” he says, and Taka hums in understanding. “The Sakai Clan estate is there. Our family cemetery.” His eyes meet Taka's. “What little family I have left.” 

Taka smiles to him, gently. “I will be happy to help Omi, then.” 

Jin nods and finishes his food, standing up. “Get your tools ready, we leave in an hour.” Before he goes, he puts his hand on Taka's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. Taka smiles to himself and sets out to pack his best hammer. 

They ride following the river all the way to Omi lake. It takes most of the morning, and Taka has to stay back and hide in the pampa grass as Jin works his way through a Mongol patrol several times. He offers to help at first and, after receiving a flat look from Jin, does not. 

Omi is a lovely place, with its forest adorned in radiant reds, greens and gold, and its shimmery lake. Taka watches the sunlight gleam over the surface of the lake as they ride along the shore, There is a small island in the middle and he's barely able to make out the small shrine there, wondering if Jin used to swim to it as a child.

The village is a little more dismal and people bow to Jin as he passes them by, the Sakai estate looming over them on top of the hill. 

It doesn't take long for Jin to lead Taka to the forge, make sure he has anything he needs, and tell the villagers to bring him food as well as everything they need fixed. Once they are alone again, he takes Taka's hand in his. “I must go to the monastery and drive the Mongols out of the region,” he says, quietly. “I will return.”

“Go,” Taka tells him, leaning in to kiss Jin's serious face. He steps out to watch him ride away, sighing to himself before he pulls his sleeves up and fires up the forge. 

For the next few days, Taka has so much work he barely has any time to worry about Jin. The samurai did not lie when he said the village needed a blacksmith: as soon as Jin lets the villagers know Taka is there to help the requests start pouring in, from arrows, kunai and knives, to keys and chopsticks, and all the way to farming tools and broken plowshares. 

An old lady comes in as Taka is fanning the fire on the third day, small but imposing, standing very straight in her faded kimono. Taka gives her a warm smile: he never knew his grandmothers but the old ladies from Yarikawa who lived next door were always nice to him when he was a child. 

“Lord Sakai tells me you are a skilled blacksmith,” the old lady says and Taka bows, respectfully. 

“That was generous of Lord Sakai to say. Can I help you, Obaasan?” he replies and she watches him for a few more seconds before she takes out something from the pocket of her kimono, wrapped in cloth, and hands it over carefully. It's a samurai mask, very similar to one Jin uses, but old and faded. There is an ugly crack running through the middle of it, threatening to cleave it in two. 

“This belonged to Lord Kazumasa Sakai, who was very dear to me. Time has caused the metal to wrap. Can you restore it?” she inquires and Taka nods, holding the mask carefully. There is a story there, he knows, though he isn't sure she will be willing to share it. 

“It will take some time,” he says, and gestures towards his small table. “Please sit. I will make tea.”

The old lady nods, and reaches for her pocket again. “I have brought biscuits,” she states, and unwraps them. “Have one. You must be hungry.” She sounds so sure Taka doesn't dare to refuse. 

So he sets a small amount of metal to melt in the oven and sits in front of her to clean the mask and polish the edges of the crack carefully, drinking tea and eating the biscuits the old lady keeps pushing towards him across the table. 

“Jin is a good man,” she says after a moment of silence, quiet but intent. 

“He is,” Taka agrees, painstakingly following the snarl of the mask's mouth with his filing tool. 

The old lady says nothing for a while, and then adds, “some say he's lost himself, following dark paths, fighting the Mongols without honor.”

Taka looks up slowly. “Lord Sakai only does what is needed to save Tsushima. To save us all, often taking great risks to do so.” He considers. “He does not always fight like a samurai should, but he's more for it, not less.”

That draws a small smile from the old lady and Taka gets the strange feeling he has passed some sort of test. 

“When hard times are here, only the strongest will be brave enough to abandon tradition and leap forward into victory,” she says, like she's reciting a poem Taka doesn't know. “Our traditions made us who we are, but they also trap us in the past. Lord Kazumasa understood this, and so does Jin.”

Taka nods, not daring to look away and focus on the mask again just yet. The old lady considers him and when she speaks, her tone is very calm. “I am glad Jin has you with him. He was always a lonely boy, and the path he's following is too harsh to be trodden alone.”

“I am glad to be by his side, always,” Taka whispers in reply, like he's telling her a secret, and the old lady hums, pleased. 

***

“I hear Yuriko visited you,” Jin says when he returns later that week. They're lying side by side on their goza mats, the backs of their hands touching. Taka tilts his head, trying to remember. There were so many villagers asking for his help.

“She had you repair my father's broken mask,” Jin adds and Taka rolls onto his side, his eyebrows arching. “I wasn't sure it was your father's, and I didn't dare to ask,” he says, openly curious. He remembers the old lady and her knowing eyes. 

Jin gives him a small smile. “It was. Your work was excellent, as always. You can barely see the crack now.” He stays silent for a few seconds, considering Taka. “But I think Yuriko mostly came to meet you.”

“... did she?” Taka asks, thoughtful. He suspected it might be so, though he wasn't sure who the old lady was.

“Yuriko was like a mother to me, after my own died,” Jin says quietly and Taka takes his hand in silence, nodding. Jin doesn't seem sad, though. If anything, he seems amused. “She said you were a very nice young man, and that she was glad I had met you,” he adds, and Taka chuckles.

“You told her about us?” he asks, curious. 

Jin shakes his head, smiling. “No. But I told her about you and that was enough, apparently.” 

“... is that why she kept insisting that you were a very good man, and that I should take good care of you?” Taka inquires, just to see Jin flush a little. 

“She did not,” he protests, and Taka smiles. “Close. She also made me eat so many biscuits I had to skip dinner.”

Jin laughs. “That, I will believe.” 

***

They go back to Yarikawa and Yuna is waiting for them there, having urgent business to discuss with Jin. Something to do with her friend Ichi, Taka learns, and a Mongol warlord terrorizing the region. The more Yuna says the more grim-faced Jin grows, and it is no surprise to Taka when he readily agrees to help and save the villagers from the warlord. 

Jin and Yuna are gone for more than a week and when they come back the look on their faces is so dark Taka almost doesn't want to know. Yuna just shakes her head when he summons the courage to ask and Taka has to have dinner alone with Jin, who is sitting rigidly straight, his teeth clenched so tightly his jaw must hurt. 

It takes time to soften him, moreso than the usual, but Taka manages with sweet tea, silly stories about the people of Yarikawa and a gentle offer to rub Jin's shoulders if he is feeling sore. The latter is refused, but Jin's eyes go a little warmer at the proposition. He still looks entirely too serious when they get up the ladder to Taka's room, no ease at all to the way he sits on his mat and considers Taka carefully. 

“Jin,” Taka says, after a few seconds of fraught silence. Before he can let Jin know that it's okay for him to talk about this or not, Jin interrupts him. “The Mongol warlord, Altan, was working with slavers,” he states, his voice stern. “The Mamushi brothers.”

Just hearing their names again is enough to make Taka's stomach turn, unpleasant memories rushing to the forefront.

“Yuna said you were prisoners at their camp when you were children,” Jin adds, more gently, and Taka has to focus on just breathing for a second. “Yes,” he confirms, and sighs in relief when Jin doesn't ask him anything else. “What happened to the brothers?” he inquires as soon as he finds his voice again. 

Jin does not hesitate. “Yuna wanted to send a message. I made my way into the camp unnoticed, cut their heads off, and put them on a spike in front of their door.”

The words send a little shiver up Taka's spine but he nods, and meets Jin's eyes again. “They deserved it,” he says, and Jin's lips press together so hard they're nothing but a thin white line. 

“They did. And more.” Taka watches the way Jin's shoulders are going rigid with tension again, and wonders what more he has to tell him. He does not have to wonder for long.

“Altan was working with another slaver. The Black Wolf,” Jin says, and Taka jerks like he's been hit. 

_Oh_. So, that's what put that haunted look on Yuna's face when she returned. 

“Yuna said you don't remember,” Jin says, his voice very quiet, and Taka closes his eyes. He knows exactly what Jin is talking about. 

“I don't,” Taka returns, swallowing through the lump growing in his throat. “Sometimes I wonder it's that better, or worse.” He makes himself open his eyes to look at Jin, bracing himself for whatever he might find in his eyes. Pity, or worse, disgust. 

There is neither on Jin's face, however. Only anger. 

“Yuna ran him through with her sword. I would kill him again if I could,” Jin he says and it sounds like a growl, vicious in a way he so rarely is. Taka bends his head, hiding behind his hair. “I would make it last longer,” Jin continues, his fists clenched on his knees. “I would make it hurt.”

“Jin,” Taka says, softly. He reaches out, taking Jin's white fingers in his, smoothing his hands open again. “I wouldn't want that. I'm just glad he's dead and won't hurt anyone else.” 

Jin's jaw clenches hard at the words but he tilts his head in agreement, taking a slow breath. His anger is not unappreciated but is serves no purpose here, and he knows it. “I'm sorry this has happened to you,” he says after a few seconds, meeting Taka's eyes earnestly. “But it does not take away from the man you have become.” 

Taka nods, slowly. This isn't a pleasant subject for him to talk about and yet somehow, he is glad that Jin has seen all the demons from his past now, and chosen to accept him all the same. 

“Thank you,” Taka says, even as he pitches forward to press his forehead to Jin's shoulder. Jin's arms come around him immediately. “Thank you.”

*** 

Taka hears about Fort Mitodake from Yuna. It doesn't seem possible for two samurai to retake an entire fort alone and follow up by destroying part of the Mongol fleet using their own weapons, but Taka has seen Jin manage too many impossible things to doubt the story for even a single second. 

It is one step closer to receiving reinforcements from the Shogun and retaking Castle Shimura, Yuna tells him, and apparently Lord Shimura was grateful. “He said he'll let us sail to the mainland now, if we want,” Yuna says, and Taka looks up sharply. 

That was the plan, what seems like a lifetime ago. It was a good plan, a plan Taka agreed with. But he's changed more in the past few months than he had for years, Taka realizes, and suddenly the idea of abandoning Tsushima for the relative safety of mainland Japan doesn't seem as appealing as it used to. 

“You want to stay,” Yuna says, and she sounds mostly resigned, not angry. 

“I don't know,” Taka answers, earnestly. He would prefer not to be in the middle of a warzone, given the choice. Yet abandoning the island to an uncertain fate seems wrong, now. 

Not to mention, abandoning Jin. 

Going to the mainland would mean never seeing him again, most likely. It is not a trip easily undertaken, and Taka doesn't think they'll come back anytime soon if they leave. The thought makes his chest feel so tight with pain he almost misses what Yuna says next.

“... offered to adopt him as his son,” he hears, and it takes him a while to understand the words. “He will become a Shimura,” she adds, and Taka looks away. “The next Jito.” 

“A great honor,” Taka answers, his tone quiet. A life of duty to the island, and to its people. A life that will come with the responsibility of perpetuating the clan name, and having children. An arranged marriage, most likely. If Jin's lucky, to someone he doesn't actively dislike. 

There is no space for Taka to fit in that life, not in a way that wouldn't be shameful for both of them. 

“It was what Jin wanted, after all,” Yuna says, her tone a little resentful. 

“Was it?” Taka wonders, softly. 

Perhaps. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied, we're going to talk about Fort Koyasan.

“You're leaving,” Jin says, to Yuna. Taka is standing right next to her, but Jin is carefully not looking at him.

“Your uncle kept his word. Our boat sails at dawn tomorrow,” Yuna answers, her eyebrows arching. She glances between Jin and Taka, obviously worried. A fraught silence stretches and Taka feels like he's teetering on the edge of a very high cliff, ready to fall. It shows on his face. He'd like to speak up, to tell Jin that he's considering staying, that he will if Jin asks him to, but Jin doesn't give him the time.

“I need your help one last time,” Jin asks instead, still looking at Yuna. “Ryuzo is hiding in Fort Koyasan. He plans to attack our flank and we can't afford to lose any more samurai, even with the Shogun sending reinforcements.”

“I can't,” Yuna pleads. She tries to explain why, reasons Taka knows too well. They are good reasons, they make perfect sense, and Taka would happily send them all to hell if only Jin asked him to stay.

But Jin doesn't speak to him. He speaks to Yuna, insisting a little, telling her about needing help dealing with the straw hats, and then giving in when Yuna tells him no, gentle but unyielding.

“I won't stop you then,” Jin relents, and for the first time that day there is a little warmth in voice as he continues. “Thank you, Yuna. For everything. I hope you find peace.” He tilts his head forward respectfully, and seems to hesitate. “And thank you, Taka. We could not have gone this far without you. I wish you a happy, prosperous life in the mainland.”

“Jin,” Taka blurts, finally managing to find his voice. “Jin, I-”

Jin's eyes flick over to him, just for a second, before he looks away, his face stony.

“Listen to your sister, Taka,” he answers, his tone suspiciously devoid of emotion. “She'll take care of you.”

Taka blinks. The words are like being punched in the chest. No, he thinks. Being punched in the chest would be easier to take. He's been hit many times, the pain does not stay. This, on the other hand, feels deeper and more crushing than anything he's ever suffered.

“Goodbye,” he whispers, blankly, “Lord Sakai.” He bows, mostly to hide that his eyes are filling up with tears.

***

“If we're going to leave, we need to do it now,” Yuna says, her voice quiet.

Taka doesn't look up from where he's sitting by the empty heath, his face pressed against his knees.

“The boat won't wait for us. We're leaving tonight or not at all,” she adds, coming to a stop in front of her brother. Taka stares at her shoes, his eyes burning. She doesn't say anything for a while, and then sighs.

“You're staying,” she tells him and it doesn't sound like a question. It sounds resigned.

“I don't know if I can leave,” Taka admits, his voice low and rough with emotion. “But I don't know what I'm staying for.”

Yuna kneels next to him, her hands on her thighs. Taka doesn't need to look at her to imagine the disapproving expression on her face. “You're staying for Jin,” she tells him, plainly. “And he wants you to. He just doesn't know how to ask you.”

Taka looks up then, his eyes red and his cheeks still wet, considering Yuna incredulously.

“Did you buy his detached little speech earlier?” Yuna prods, looking unimpressed. “He told you what he thought you wanted to hear, what he thought he ought to tell you so you would leave and be safe in the mainland.”

She doesn't quite roll his eyes at him, but Taka gets the impression she really wants to. “You know him better than that. He's not even a great liar.” She reaches out, tucking a strand of Taka's hair behind his ear gently. “You could go and find him,” she offers, quietly. “He's in Fort Koyasan. You could tell him you've decided to stay.”

“Yuna,” Taka says, his voice trembling. “If I stay, will you stay too?”

She looks surprised, like she hadn't even considered leaving without him. “Of course I'll stay. Someone has to make sure you don't get into trouble.” She arches his eyebrows at him and Taka leans back, gratefulness flooding through him like a cool rush. He knows how much this must cost her, to abandon her dreams of safety, her dreams for a new life, for a better future. To sacrifice her own happiness so Taka can have what he wants.

He reaches out for her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “Thank you,” he says, feeling a sob build in his chest again. She hums and holds him closer protectively, stroking through his hair until he calms down. Then she tells him to be careful, and lets him go.

***

Finding Jin is difficult, even when Taka knows where he's supposed to be. Jin has shown him how he will always scout a camp before attacking it though, and while it takes time, Taka does find a grassy hill by the Fort he thinks would be ideal to do just that. Jin is there, crouching in the pampa grass with an intent look on his face, tension obvious in all the lines of his body.

“Jin”, Taka calls, probably too loudly since Jin is currently trying to scout the fort as discretely as possible. The samurai doesn't seem to mind though, turning around with more surprise on his face than Taka has ever seen.

“Taka,” he answers, worry taking over his cool reserve from before, holding Taka's hands in his as Taka reaches for him. “Why are you not on your way to the mainland? Has anything happened? Is Yuna in trouble?”

“Jin, no,” Taka says, blinking back tears, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest. “I couldn't go,” he admits in a rush, holding Jin's hands tightly in his. “I couldn't leave you.” He stares into Jin's eyes, which are wide and very dark in the fading sunlight. “I'll stay, if you want me to. I'll stay with you.” He brings Jin's hands to his lips, kissing his rough knuckles.

“Taka,” Jin whispers, conflicting emotions chasing over his face; happiness, worry, desire, rejection. “Taka, you know that I-” Jin's voice is full of emotion but his throat won't let the words out and Taka still smiles, delighted.

“I know.” He leans in, pressing feverish kisses to Jin's lips, his hands coming to rest on the cool metal of his armor. “I want to be by your side, always. I love you, Jin,” he whispers between kisses and Jin makes a tight, pained noise at the back of his throat and cups Taka's face with both his armored hands, kissing him harder.

They're both panting as they part, Jin's small smile threatening to break into a large grin and Taka laughing helplessly in return, holding on to him tight. Taka's never felt so much happiness, his heart is full to the brim with it.

He opens his mouth to tell Jin he loves him again, and that's when he sees the Mongol soldier behind him. His eyes widen and he jerks back to warn Jin about it but it's too late, and the Mongol soldier brings the pommel of his sword down hard on the back of Jin's head.

Jin falls, like a puppet whose strings have all been cut. Taka screams.

***

When Jin comes back to his senses, the first thing he sees is Taka tied to a wooden post in front of him. It's enough to jerk him back to full consciousness immediately, fear pushing through his system like a thousand freezing needles, his heart hammering in his chest. He hasn't felt such paralyzing terror since the day his father was killed before his very eyes and he gasps, blood rushing in his ears as he struggles wildly against the rope binding him.

“Jin, Jin,” Taka is saying, tear-tracks on his dirty cheeks, his eyes desperate. “You were out so long, I thought they'd killed you.” There is relief in Taka's voice, despite the situation.

“Try to break free,” Jin hisses, his hands trembling with pain and panic, pulling at the rope again. Taka, his sweet, gentle Taka, tied up in the middle of a Mongol camp, at the mercy of their cruelty. This cannot be, Jin thinks, madly. This cannot _be_.

Taka looks concerned but he does struggle to break free, tugging at the rope. Then the look on his face changes from worry to horror, his whole face going pale, and Jin goes dead still. He can hear heavy footsteps behind him, slow and implacable, and he knows, he _knows_ without needing to look, that Khotun Khan is here.

Jin thought seeing the man again would make him boil with rage and it does, but his anger is overshadowed by fear. He scowls as Khotun Khan addresses him and then schools his features into something neutral and aloof, not even looking at his enemy. The Khan prattles on about killing his horse, bringing peace to Tsushima and becoming a legend, and Jin can barely listen to him. He keeps his eyes on the horizon, only looking back to Taka sharply when he speaks up.

“He's already a legend,” is what Taka says, sounding steady despite the situation.

Khotun Khan smiles, slow and nasty. “Ah yes, your _friend_ ,” he mocks, sounding amused. He turns towards Taka and Taka flinches, swallowing uneasily. Jin pulls at the rope binding him so hard he can feel it burn into the skin of his wrists.

“The Ghost does not care much about you, does he? Not as much as you care about him, obviously.” Mock-sympathy drips from the Khan's every word and Jin grits his teeth, terror shooting through him again as the Khan picks up his katana and uses it to cut Taka free, making him stumble forward in surprise.

“You kill him,” the Khan says plainly, handing Taka the katana. “You can go.”

Taka takes the katana carefully, his eyes wary. There is conflict on Taka's face and yet Jin feels no concern. Taka will not do this to him, that much he knows. No matter how terrified he is, no matter that Jin would let him if he was sure the Khan would keep his word, and let Taka live in return.

Jin wants to close his eyes and tell Taka to do it. He does not. Instead, he watches him step closer.

***

Taka takes a deep breath, lifts the katana, and goes into moon stance. Slow but sure, copying what Jin has shown him many times. He feels oddly calm, almost detached from the situation.

There is a little confusion on Jin's face when he recognizes the stance. Moon stance if for brutes, for attackers much larger than yourself, not striking down a bound samurai. Jin knows Taka is aware of that, he's told him enough times.

And yet here he is, sword held high.

Taka's eyes flick to Khotun Khan briefly, meaningfully, as he raises the katana higher. He can see the exact moment when Jin understands what's going to happen; the way Jin's eyebrows go up, just a little, before he schools his features back into something stoic.

Taka does not mean to strike him. He means to strike the Khan, using the stance he feels is most appropriate for it. With surprise on his side, he might just manage to injure him, too. And then, with Jin still bound and a dozen infuriated Mongol soldiers around them, the both of them will most likely be killed. It still beats being tortured for days or watching Jin die, Taka thinks, and he steps forward.

He meets Jin's eyes. They are dark and intent, no fear in them. Jin stares and then shakes his head, a sharp but minute movement.

“Do not hesitate,” The Khan says, his very presence behind Taka oppressive. “Strike him.”

Jin glances down to where the rope is binding him to the post and Taka follows his gaze, lingering there. His lips part when he looks back up to Jin's face and, to show he understands, slowly shifts his stance to stone. Jin nods, almost imperceptibly.

Taka closes his eyes for a second and then brings the katana down as hard as he can manage, slicing neatly through the rope binding Jin to the post. The Khan roars in fury as it falls around Jin, freeing him, and Taka presses the katana into Jin's waiting palm before promptly ducking down and away.

Jin's eyes glint darkly and thunder rolls into the distance. He jumps on the nearest soldier with barely-disguised rage, slitting his throat and kicking him to the side.

The battle that ensues is ugly.

Taka has seen Jin fight the Mongols many times, and more often than not with incredible violence, but he's never seen him fight like _this_. Jin fights like a man possessed, like a demon, taking on three of four assailants at the same time, batting away flaming arrows with his sword, scowling at the straw hats coming to help the Mongols. It is too much for the Khan, even, who retreats behind a line of his soldiers, shouting orders in Mongol and blowing his horn for reinforcements.

Picking up the sword of a fallen soldier Taka tries to help, managing to take down a few Mongols who are distracted by the samurai slaying their fellow soldiers mercilessly. He bends to take a discarded shield as well and that's when pain erupts in his shoulder, bright and searing, so all-consuming it sends Taka to the ground with a sharp cry.

He's taken an arrow to the arm, he realizes, and the world goes gray around the edges.

***

Someone is calling his name, shaking him a little. Taka struggles to open his eyes and a face floats above him, slowly coming into focus. It's Yuna.

Reality rushes back to Taka like a slap in the face and he can feel the wet mud under his palms, the distant sound of fighting, the burning pain in his shoulder.

“I got shot,” he says, dumbly, and Yuna lets out a tight noise of anguish. “Taka, you idiot. You weren't supposed to fight here. You could have been killed!” He still could, he reckons, and Yuna must have the same thought because she glances towards the main door of the camp, probably trying to see if Jin needs help. Her quiver is empty, Taka notices, so she must have come to the samurai's rescue.

There is a shout, low and angry, and suddenly only silence coming from the door, the sound of rain over dead leaves and sodden mud surfacing again. “Jin?” Taka says, trying to sit up and wincing at the pain that shoots through his arm.

“He's fine,” Yuna placates. “Don't move, you've lost a lot of blood.” She rolls him onto his good side and tears part of her kimono, wrapping it around his shoulder. It hurts. Taka glances at the wound and blanches, his stomach turning. “Shouldn't you be taking the arrow out before you do that?” he inquires, his voice trembling.

“No. It'll bleed more if we take it out. There are healers at Lord Shimura's camp. They'll take it out when we can treat your wound.” Taka hisses but he doesn't protest, looking back towards the main door of the camp. Out of the rain comes Jin, wet with mud and blood. He looks feral, a cornered animal who fought an entire pack of wolves and came out on top, his teeth bloody.

“Jin,” Taka whispers and Jin goes down to his knees in the mud, taking his hand and holding it tightly.

“I'm sorry,” Jin says, low and desperate and Taka shakes his head. “No, I-”

“He needs a healer,” Yuna interrupts, sharply. “You two can decide whose fault it was later. We need to take him back to the camp.” From the glowering look on her face, Taka assumes they'll both be held responsible for this, and get yelled at later on.

Fair enough, he decides, and lets Jin haul him to his feet to start their slow journey back.

***

Taka wakes up and it is still raining, the sound of it soft and regular over the wooden roof. As he sits up carefully he can see through the window and recognizes Lord Shimura's camp, gray and dismal. There is a good fire going in the fireplace next to him still, and food on a small mat. He prods at his shoulder and finds it tightly bandaged. He can still taste the bitter medicine the healers made him drink earlier for the pain and he is grateful for it. As long as he doesn't move, he finds the ache in his shoulder to be bearable.

He's busy trying to eat dinner one-handed when the paper screen door to the room slides open and Jin steps in. He's taken off most of his armor and he looks thoroughly soaked, his hair hanging limply from his topknot. The look on his face is grave and intense but he seems less wild than before, when Taka had watched him cut through the Mongols like they were nothing.

Taka holds out his hand and Jin comes to take it, removing his soggy cloak and kneeling by the fire, his dark eyes never leaving Taka's face. “How is your shoulder?” he asks, squeezing Taka's fingers. His voice is low, very soft.

“If I don't move, it doesn't hurt much,” Taka tells him earnestly. He has to let go of Jin's hand to pour him a cup of hot tea. “What did your uncle say?”

“He wants to retake Castle Shimura,” Jin answers, almost absent-mindedly. “Gather our allies and ride within a week to recover it from the Mongols.”

Taka nods, eating another rice ball. That was the plan all along and it is a good plan, really. Castle Shimura holds a great strategic position on the island, whoever occupies it controls the region.

“Taka,” Jin says, urgently, and Taka focuses on him again, his eyebrows arching. There is something heavy in Jin's expression, like his feelings are crushing him, stifling him. Taka lets go of his chopsticks to take his hand again.

“You could have died,” Jin whispers, his voice so weak it seems to tremble.

“Yes,” Taka admits, sounding firmer than he feels. “So could you. We both made it.”

Jin shakes his head, holding Taka's fingers tighter, willing him to understand. “Because of me, Taka. You were only there to find me. I put you in this situation in the first place.” Jin bows his head under the guilt of that, his eyebrows furrowing. “I don't think I could ever forgive myself, if something happened to you.”

Taka makes a soft noise, moving to sit closer to Jin, his hand stroking up his arm and holding him by the back of his neck. “I'm not your responsibility, Jin. You didn't put me in any situation. I put myself there. I knew the danger, and I still came to find you.”

“If I were a better man,” Jin says, continuing as if Taka hadn't spoken, “I would put you on the next boat to the mainland.” He looks conflicted, actually considering it, and Taka shakes him by the neck, hard enough to snap him out of it. It hurts his shoulder but he tries not to let it show.

“This is not your decision to make, Jin,” he states, very firmly. “I would not ask you to stay away from the war for your own safety. Please do not ask me the same. I chose to stay, and so I will.” He shakes Jin again, more gently, to prove his point, and Jin sighs slow and deep.

“I love you,” Jin answers and the words come easily now, easier than Taka thought they would. “You told me, but I didn't say it back,” Taka has to chuckle, drawing Jin nearer still.

“Very unfair of you, Lord Sakai,” he states and he pulls Jin to lie down with him in front of the fire. There, they can trade slow kisses and words of love until night comes and sleep takes them.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long, November was... a month
> 
> there will be one more chapter, to wrap everything up <3

The next day, Jin and Yuna leave to reclaim Castle Shimura. 

Taka isn't here for the samurai charge, cowed into staying behind and nursing his injury by twin looks of disapproval on the face of the two people he cares most about. He stays at the camp, sitting on his straw mat in front of the fire and working on Jin's armor, intent on finishing it as soon as he can. It makes him feel useful, at least, and helps keep his mind occupied.

From what he hears soon after, the first part of the battle is a victory though the Mongols' cruel tactics claimed the lives of many brave samurai. Taka hears the rest from Yuna in the evening, hears about the hwachas raining death on the samurai, about the horses with their carriage on fire charging Lord Shimura's army and destroying the bridge that leads to the castle.

“Jin wasn't hurt,” Yuna tells him and Taka nods, bent over the armor while he sews the final pieces together. “He's with Lord Shimura. I think they were arguing.”

Taka looks up with his eyebrows arched and Yuna sighs, sipping on her tea. 

“Shimura wants to wait until tomorrow, repair the bridge, and charge again. Jin thinks he could spare the lives of many samurai if he got into the camp at night and did the dirty work himself.”

“Even Jin can't fight an entire Mongol stronghold on his own,” Taka points out, tugging sharply at the metal plating of the armor to test it. It holds. 

“He can if he poisons them,” Yuna answers, darkly. It gives Taka pause for a second, before he concedes. 

“Lord Shimura thinks that's dishonorable,” he guesses, and Yuna nods. 

“Jin doesn't care. Not when there are so many lives on the line.”

“That does sound like Jin. Help me up.” The armor is finished, he will bring it to Castle Shimura. 

***

Taka finds Jin just outside the camp, sitting at the edge of the cliff and broodingly staring at Castle Shimura in the dark. To his right the bridge that crosses the ravine is still burning, painting his face blood orange. 

Jin doesn't look at him but his body tilts sideways when Taka sits down next to him, welcoming his presence. There is a bruise high on his cheek bone, like someone slapped him in the face. Taka isn't sure who would dare to do that. 

“I'm going to do it,” Jin says after a long silence and his tone is harsh, challenging. Taka wonders if Jin thinks he's going to try to talk him out of it. 

“I know,” he says instead, and Jin's shoulder presses against his own. 

“It's dishonorable,” Jin states, the words slow, like he's repeating someone else's argument instead of making his own. Taka tilts his head in agreement. 

“Yes. And it will save the lives of many.” He will not fight Jin on this. It is the right thing to do, in Taka's opinion. It is also a great horror, one he knows Jin will bear just like he has born every other act of violence he's had to perform since the war started. 

Jin bows his head, sighing. Some tension seems to seep out of his frame. “Dishonor will be a worthy burden to carry, then.” Taka reaches out and takes his hand, holding it tight. “You will never be dishonorable in my eyes,” he whispers and Jin closes his eyes and leans against him. 

They stay like this for a long time before Taka shifts and tugs him up. “Come, I have something for you.”

Taka leads Jin back to his tent at the camp in silence, gesturing at the armor displayed there. “I made it for the Ghost,” he explains, and lets Jin examine the armor. “It'll give you some protection, but I've mostly designed it to be very quiet. It won't reflect light and draw the eye, either.” He gestures at the different pieces. “You can keep kunai and black powder here. Poison darts there.”

He would say more but Jin is grabbing him, both hands on his cheeks, and kissing him so deeply it makes a hot wave of desire go down his spine. It's not a kind kiss but it is scorching and Taka is panting and flushed when Jin leans back, considering him with dark eyes.

“Thank you,” Jin says, and Taka shakes his head. He deserves no thanks for merely seeing Jin as he is, and accepting what he does. He watches Jin immediately start to take off his armor so he can wear Taka's instead, staring for a few seconds before he moves closer to help him. 

He doesn't get more kisses that night, but he does get to see Jin vault over the ravine under the burning bridge using Taka's metal hook and wearing Taka's armor, and that turns out to be almost as satisfying. 

***

The rest of the mission is a disaster. 

Jin doesn't falter; he does exactly what he took up to do, and it only takes a few hours before they start hearing screams of terror and agony coming from the castle, prompting both Yuna and Lord Shimura to rush in. 

They are met with no resistance. There are Mongol soldiers lying all around the muddy ground of the courtyard, dead or dying, blood foaming at their lips. And in the middle of it all, Jin with his katana bloody and a grim look on his face, his chin turned up to bear the consequences of his actions. 

Jin may be dishonorable, Taka thinks, watching from a distance, but he is no coward. He is too far to hear what is being said but it's obvious that Lord Shimura is upset with what Jin has done, gesturing at him angrily. Then he gestures at Yuna behind them and Jin's jaw sets tighter and tighter. He steps forward to place himself between Yuna and his uncle, shaking his head.

Lord Shimura adds something, handing Jin a document that looks official and Jin pauses, before squaring his shoulders. Whatever he says makes Shimura reel back and the samurai around them reach for their katana, Taka stepping closer in concern. 

Jin isn't moving to fight them though, unbuckling his own katana and handing it to Yuna instead. From across the bridge his eyes find Taka's and he shakes his head, just once. Taka stills and the samurai surround Jin to tie his hands, leading him inside the castle. 

***

While Taka has never been one for politics, it's easy to glean what happened just by listening to the samurai talk. Lord Shimura did not like being defied by his own nephew, and as a punishment rescinded his offer to make him his son. It's cruel, in Taka's opinion, and undeserved. It must have hurt Jin, too, and that much Taka cannot forgive. 

The second part, Taka learns later: the Shogun is displeased by the Ghost's growing popularity on Tsushima, especially since his methods are considered dishonorable. He does not wish to risk a rebellion, peasants and local lords joining the Ghost in contesting his power after the Mongols are defeated, and will make of this show of disobedience a pretext to demand the Ghost's head. 

Whether the Shogun cares for Jin's dishonorable methods in getting rid of the Mongol invaders is unclear, Taka finds. The samurai do not want to speak ill of their lord, but through their silences and stony countenances, Taka can tell that things might be more complicated than they seem. 

He cares little for the politics of the mainland, in the end. What he cares about, is familiarizing himself enough with Castle Shimura and the guards keeping Jin prisoner to mount a rescue. It's easy to come and go as he pleases: the samurai need a blacksmith and he is innocuous enough that they do not suspect he could be plotting anything. 

Yuna has ridden north following Jin's instructions but on the third day Taka receives unexpected help in the shape of a shipment of very good sake, brought to the Castle by their ever-scheming friend. Kenji has heard of the fate that befell the Ghost and is, as always, willing to help. The plan he offers is simple: get the guards drunk, steal their keys, and let Jin out. From there, the Ghost can disappear into the night. 

The guards take almost no convincing and Kenji pours them cup after cup of sake, praising their bravery and cursing the Mongols affably. Taka slips unnoticed into the building. He slides a paper screen door open and there Jin is, wearing a plain kimono and sitting on his mat in the small barred room, eating dinner. 

His eyebrows arch on his forehead and Taka hurries closer, reaching for him through the wooden bars.

“What are you doing?” he asks, immediately coming closer to take Taka's hands, his eyes widening when he finds a key there, pressed against his palm. “Taka,” he whispers, holding onto him tight. 

“You must go,” Taka says quietly, his eyes intent in the dim light. “Kenji is getting the guards drunk, but they will notice you are missing soon enough.” Jin pulls him in until their faces are close, the wooden bars cold against Taka's temple. 

“If they find out you helped me, they will execute you too,” Jin whispers, urgently.

“They won't find out. I'm just a blacksmith. They're sending me back to Yarikawa tomorrow. I'll slip away from the convoy and meet you north. Yuna's waiting for you in Kin.”

“Taka,” Jin says, his eyes going soft in the darkness. “Be careful.”

“I will.” Taka draws Jin's arm through the bars and kisses the back of his hand, quick but warm. “Now go.”

***

The next time Taka sees Jin is at Jogaku temple, and he looks much worse for wear. 

He rides in on a mangy brownish horse (he lost his own, Yuna told Taka earlier), and he looks exhausted, too pale under the grime on his face. He dismounts stiffly, rubbing his cold fingers and blowing on them, moving closer to the fire. He's wearing the armor Taka made him, pouches and pockets brimming with weapons, and his eyes are sharp as he scans the courtyard, falling on Taka. 

“Lord Sakai,” Taka says, with a bow. “I heard you made a daring escape.”

“So I did,” Jin answers, impassibly. His eyes crinkle a little at the corners before he reigns himself in. “Come. The seams are fraying on this armor, I would like you to take a look.”

No such thing is happening -Taka should know, he sewed those seams himself- but he nods and follows Jin to the small house he has claimed for his own. 

Jin is upon him the moment the door is closed, kissing him feverishly, whispering about how he missed him, about how he was afraid he would die without seeing Taka one last time. Taka holds him close, and kisses him back. 

In the morning, they ride north. 

It's a long ride, their horses plodding through the snow slowly, breaths fogging up the freezing air around their heads. Everything is white in this part of the island and the sun shines too brightly, its glare refracted a thousand times on things around them: the snow, the sharp frozen shrubs, the still blueish ponds. It hurts Taka's eyes, the cold air feeling like needles every time he breathes in, his hands and feet completely numb after several hours of riding. 

They stop for the night at an abandoned Mongol camp and Jin leads him to one of the tents, helping him start a fire and find food. Jin seems to know his way around the camp and he gathers supplies easily, taking his time to make sure there is no danger approaching. Taka stays inside the tent gratefully, building the fire high until the temperature is more bearable. 

It feels strange to settle inside a Mongol tent, surrounded by their crafted lamps and woven tapestries, but Taka has no desire to sleep outside. He makes tea and sets dumpling soup to warm by the fire, mending a hole in his own clothing. The evening light wanes and it starts to rain, the sound soft and regular on the fabric roof of the tent, punctuating the crackling of the fire and the rustling of fabric as Taka keeps sewing. 

Jin comes in drenched and frozen, snow powdering his shoulders and his wet hair, his teeth chattering. He stands tall while he ties the flap of the tent shut for the night but when he turns to face Taka, his shoulders sag a little with exhaustion. 

Eyebrows furrowing in concern, Taka is quick to stand up and push Jin towards the fireplace, making him sit on the mat as close as he can to the fire. He's been steadily feeding it for an hour now and it is bright and hot, quickly warming Jin's body and drying his skin. 

There is no resistance coming from Jin, his body pliant in Taka's hands. Taka helps him take off his armor and rub himself dry, untying his hair so he can comb through it, working out all the knots patiently and leaving it down to dry. Jin's eyes are only half-open, weariness clear on his face. It's not just physical strain, Taka suspects. It's the weight of knowing he is an outcast now, rejected by the Clan which had taken him in as a child, without any hope to rejoin the ranks of the samurai. 

It must not be easy for Jin to accept that he is ronin now, and not samurai. Or at least, that he would be ronin, if he was not whatever the Ghost has become. Jin has said nothing on the matter and he doesn't seem willing to talk at the moment, either. Taka know it is a sensitive subject, and asks him no questions. Instead he makes Jin drink two cups of hot tea and checks a minor cut he got along his shin, unrolling the dirty bandage, checking the skin for infection, and then rolling a fresh bandage over the wound.

He looks up, Jin's leg in his lap, and finds Jin watching him with dark and thoughtful eyes. 

“Does it hurt?” Taka asks, his voice quiet. He covers the bandaged cut with his palm protectively. 

Jin shakes his head. “Just my back,” he answers, rolling his shoulders carefully. He pulled a muscle there a few days ago, doing a particularly acrobatic trick that slew three Mongols at once. It doesn't seem to be slowing him down much but it aches in the evenings, when his body cools after a day of relentless fighting. 

Taka has seen Jin shrug off bruises the size of his head and put his armor right back over awful scrapes, so for him to mention his back at all must mean it really is quite painful. 

“I'll rub it for you,” Taka offers, stroking his hand up to Jin's knee. “Yuna and I lived next to a massage parlor once. I learned a few things.” He smiles encouragingly and Jin considers and then nods, folding his legs under himself so he can sit up and present his back to Taka.

“Lie down,” Taka tells him, giving his shoulder a gentle push. “On your front. It'll be easier for you to relax.”

Jin doesn't protest, carefully lowering himself on the straw mat, close enough to feel the heat from the fire lick at his side. The linen towel he's wearing around his middle bunches up, revealing strong thighs, and Taka tries not to stare even as he straddles Jin's hips. 

“Do you mind?” Taka asks, sitting down and resting some of his weight on Jin's upper thighs. Jin shakes his head and sets his cheek against his palm, his eyes closing. Taka strokes across his back gently, reaching for the oil. 

The smell of cloves and sesame is reminiscent of Jin spending long hours polishing his weapons, but it's also reminiscent of other activities now, and it makes Taka flush just a little. Jin must think the same because he opens one eye when Taka pours oil into his palm, his lips curving up faintly. His shoulders bunch up and then relax, and Taka warms the oil into his hands before he sets his palms to Jin's skin, rubbing slowly. 

He starts gentle, stroking over Jin's skin to test how sensitive he is, how tight the muscles in his back are. He kneads Jin's shoulders, carefully at first and then more deeply, feeling how they are tense under his fingers, especially on the right side where Jin holds his katana while he fights. 

Pressing his thumbs hard under Jin's shoulder blades gets a low noise from him, almost a groan, and Taka releases immediately, smoothing his palms there instead. “Too hard?” he asks, and Jin shakes his head. Taka does it again, pressing hard and rubbing at the knots there, letting up and pushing again, rolling the muscles until they loosen, tension draining from them. 

Jin doesn't make any more noises as Taka works on his shoulders but his lips are parted against the back of his hand, and his eyebrows are furrowed. He does relax though, the line of his shoulders slowly unwinding. 

Then it's just a matter of Taka working his way down Jin's spine, paying attention to all the knots he finds, working them out carefully, digging his thumbs into Jin's back until the tension recedes. By the time Taka gets to the hem of his towel Jin's forehead is smooth and his eyes are moving slowly behind his eyelids, his breathing a little quicker than it should be. 

Taka smiles, stroking his fingers over the warm skin of Jin's back. It feels good to do this for him, both because Taka likes to be useful, and because it is a pleasure to just touch him, gently but firmly, and stroke over the hard planes of his body. 

When he deems Jin's back relaxed enough Taka shifts, shuffling down so he can put his hands on Jin's thighs instead, above the knees. The touch doesn't draw any comment from Jin and Taka pours more oil into his palms, slowly working on Jin's thigh muscles, feeling the places where the tendons are corded from the extensive horse-riding Jin has been doing. 

It takes less time to soothe those muscles than it did Jin's back, and Taka quickly gets all the way up, folding the towel until it barely covers Jin to finish working on his thighs. Soon there isn't anywhere left to go that isn't Jin's ass, and Taka stares at what he can see of it under the towel, wondering if he'll be bold enough. He rubs small circles with his thumbs up and down the insides of Jin's thighs, going a little higher each time as he hesitates.

Perhaps he should do something easier. Massage Jin's hands, for example. 

Jin makes that choice for him, spreading his thighs when Taka's hands rest lightly on his ass, wide enough to make his towel unfold and slip to the side. It's such a blatant invitation that heat floods through Taka forcefully, starting in his cheeks and then pooling down his chest to the cradle of his hips, fanning his gentle desire into a crackling fire. 

“Jin?” he inquires and Jin makes a quiet humming noise, assent and request all at once. 

Taka takes a slow breath as he pushes the towel aside entirely, his hands more steady than he feels, and rubs oil into the crease of Jin's ass, his touch gentle. It's easy to find where Jin's body opens, and even easier to push the tip of his thumb inside, feeling Jin clench hotly around it. 

The clutch of Jin's body, so tight and so warm, is obscene somehow and brings a flush to Taka's cheeks. He bites on his lower lip and presses a little deeper, watching Jin for signs of discomfort. There aren't any. Instead Jin cants his hips into the touch and Taka's mouth goes dry as he watches his finger disappear into Jin's body to the knuckle, slick and easy. 

Jin makes a noise that sounds like a pleased sigh and Taka withdraws carefully to press in with two fingers this time, working them inside Jin with great patience, gradually making room for himself, pushing Jin's body to open and accommodate him. It's tricky to find just the right speed and the right pressure, but it helps Taka to focus on the task at hand instead of listening to the all-consuming desire inside him. 

By the time he thinks he's done Jin is panting against his own hand and his thighs are trembling finely around Taka's knees, his hips rocking slowly. He takes three fingers as deep as they'll go with no apparent strain, clenching reflexively whenever Taka brushes against that sensitive spot inside him. 

Taka is about to ask him if he's ready but then Jin moves without warning, lifting up on his elbows and making Taka withdraw as he rolls onto his back, reaching to pull him closer. Jin's eyes are open and they are dark and heavy-lidded, his entire face flushed pink with desire. 

He pulls at Taka's clothes harshly, pushing fabric aside until he can get to skin, his fingers wrapping around Taka's cock with no hesitation. It makes Taka gasp and lean in for a rough kiss, groaning when he settles between Jin's thighs and feels the hard, wet drag of his cock against his skin. Jin isn't shy about what he wants, his fingers digging into Taka's shoulders and his hips canting up needfully, pleading without words. 

And as always, Taka is powerless to deny him what he's requesting. 

He takes his own cock into his hand, rubs more oil onto it, and guides it against Jin's body. It takes some adjusting to find the correct place, the correct angle, to rock his hips insistently enough for Jin's body to open, making them both gasp at the feeling. Then it's only a matter of a slow, inexorable push deeper, artless but careful, until their hips are flush together. 

Doing this, Taka realizes, demands a lot of self-control. He doesn't want to hurt Jin or rush his pleasure, but it's difficult to keep himself in check with Jin feeling and looking like _this_ under him. He digs his nails into the straw mat on either side of Jin's shoulders and bites down a groan, focusing on keeping his thrusts slow and even, going deep each time and watching the way Jin's head slowly tilts back at the sensation, his mouth falling open. 

He can feel Jin's strong thighs around his waist, squeezing him tighter and tighter as if spurring on a horse, his fingers digging into his back. Jin's hips arch from the mat, pressing into Taka's gentle thrusts needfully. 

It takes time to unravel him entirely still and Taka is starting to think he'll come before Jin. He finally starts to draw sounds from his lover, little hitched moans, Jin's body shaking with pleasure, open and wanting in Taka's arms. 

“Jin,” Taka whispers against the scar on his cheek, pressing feverish kisses to his face. “Touch yourself.” Jin shudders but he complies, wrapping his fingers around his dripping cock. “Harder,” he demands, his voice low and unsteady, finally opening his eyes again to look at Taka. It sends a jolt through Taka's system to see how dark they have gotten, how raw the expression on his face is.

He gives Jin what he wants, holding him tightly at the hips as he fucks him harder, carefully at first and then with wild abandon, Jin urging him on. He watches Jin move with it, one hand leaving Taka's hip to brace against the stone heath, his belly tightening to absorb the slap of Taka's hips against his own. 

This won't last much longer, Taka suspects, but he doesn't think it will need to, not with how desperately Jin is stroking himself, his hand tight and rough, his hips jumping into the touch. Jin comes with a choked groan and Taka fucks him right through it, trying to keep the angle that finally made him break, his eyes sharp and focused. 

Coming somehow makes Jin even tighter and hotter around him and Taka can't resist, pressing in as deep as he can when he comes, groaning against the sweaty skin of Jin's shoulder. Pleasure goes through him like a hot wave, leaving him tingling all the way to his scalp, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

Silence covers them like a blanket, and as the noise of their fast breathing slowly dims, Taka becomes aware of the crackle of the fire again, of the gentle noise of raindrops falling over the Mongol tent. He stays still for a long time, his face against Jin's cheek, only withdrawing when Jin nudges him to move. 

He grins a little at how loose Jin looks under him, his face slack and the line of his shoulders easy, his thighs still spread around Taka. “I don't know if that was good for your back,” he says, cleaning them both with a piece of fabric, watching the corners of Jin's mouth twitch up. 

“Tell you tomorrow,” Jin replies and Taka chuckles, lying down next to him and pulling his blanket up to cover them both. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we are, the last chapter!  
> thank you to everyone who commented and left kudos, it means a lot :)  
> I hope you enjoy <3

It takes Jin only a few weeks to rally his allies at Jogaku Temple and pacify Kamiagata, but it feels like years. Years in the snow, hopelessly surrounded by the Mongols, watching their people die. Taka always knew this war would cost them all dearly, but he's beginning to fear the price might be too hard for even Jin to pay. 

It's the cowardice of the peasants at Sago Mill, turning on their own. The countless bodies frozen in the snow, blood pooling around their heads and on their lips, killed by Jin's poison. Norio's brother, tortured for weeks. A family, burnt alive in their house because they believed the tale spun by the Mongols about the Ghost, and refused Jin's help.

The weight of all this misery is crushing and every day Jin seems to have to strive a little harder to bear it, the line of his shoulders growing tighter and tighter. He smiles less, speaks less, sleeps less. Taka lies awake in the dark and watches Jin's face. It seems set in stone, his eyes distant. 

He reaches out and Jin lets himself be touched, lets Taka kiss him and pull him close. He's gentle in return, his hands, red and cracked from the cold, barely there on Taka's body. He comes with Taka's name on his lips, their bodies intertwined, but it still feels like he's slowly but inexorably slipping further and further. The war is chipping away at him a little more each day, and Taka is helpless to do anything but watch it happen. 

Kenji tries to keep everyone in good spirits but even his sake and cheer aren't enough, despair hanging tightly over all of them, as thick as the snow outside. 

Then, after weeks of this relentless torture, they are suddenly rushing to Port Izumi, a storm brewing and threatening the Mongol fleet. They will strike when the storm rages on, Jin decides, blindsiding the Mongols. 

There is much to do and Taka is running all day, sharpening katanas and arrows, fixing armors. Every time he catches sight of Jin talking to his allies around the camp though, he can't help but wonder if they are rushing to the finish, if this is the end now. He wonders what will be left after all this, once the dust settles. 

The night before the attack, Jin writes a letter to his uncle. He's careful with the brush, tracing the kanji precisely, debating each word. 

“Do you think he'll come to help you?” Taka asks from where he's watching shadows flicker on Jin's face in the firelight. 

“I don't know,” Jin answers, and he sounds resigned. Taka wonders if that's true. “I have to believe he will,” Jin adds, and Taka waits until he's finished writing to lean in and kiss him. They watch the ink dry together. 

Finally, it is time to ride to Port Izumi. 

Taka spends time with Yuna the night before, speaking in low voices around their fire, making her promise to be careful. This war hasn't been cruel enough to take his sister from him yet, but Taka dreads it will on its final day. 

In the morning he helps her onto her horse, making sure she has enough arrows and is wearing the underarmour he has fashioned to keep her safe. Only when he sees she wants for nothing, does he turn around and focus on Jin. 

Jin's eyes are hard and distant as Taka steps closer to him, like he's already on the battlefield, ready to fight an entire army. “You will take care of our camp, Taka,” he says, calmly. “Our allies might need medical attention on their return.” Most won't return, Taka knows. He still nods. “Yes, my Lord.” 

It occurs to Taka that they haven't spoken about this moment. Jin has explained his plan, how he means to corner the Khan and ravage his army while the storm ravages his fleet. But they haven't spoken about Jin leaving and potentially not returning. About the possibility that this will be the last time they see each other. 

Taka bows, deeply, his eyes stinging as he closes them. “I will pray for your safe return,” he answers, his voice tight. 

“Thank you,” Jin says quietly and he reaches out, giving Taka's arm a squeeze. The touch is unexpected and Taka looks up to meet his gaze, his heart aching at what he sees there. He hesitates, his stomach lurching, and then, in front of all of their allies assembled, he takes Jin's hand in his and brings it to his lips, pressing a swift kiss to his fingers. It's a stunning breach of etiquette, an outrageous display of affection for all to see. 

“Please,” he whispers. “Please, come back.”

Jin doesn't take his hand back. He leans in, his eyes solemn, and rests his forehead against Taka's for a second. “I will.” 

Then he steps back and heads for his horse, his allies following. No-one says anything about it. 

***

The relief Taka feels when he sees Jin limp back to Jotaku temple, his arm around Yuna's shoulders, is so intense he feels like his chest is bursting with it. He runs through the snow to throw his arms around Yuna, gripping Jin's arm around her shoulders in the process. Jin's hand comes to rest on his back gently and they stay like this for a long time, Taka not even trying to pretend he's not crying against Yuna's shoulder as she calls him an idiot for worrying. 

“Let's go inside before we freeze solid,” she tells them, her voice tight with emotion, and Taka nods. “Help me with Jin. They might call him the Ghost but he's even heavier than he looks.” That surprises a snort from Jin and Taka grins, wiping the tears from his face as he slips under Jin's arm on his other side and helps him make it to the warmth of the Temple. 

Later, Taka helps Jin take off his armor and bathe, looking at the scrapes and burns on his skin. The worst of it is his knee and once Jin is dry Taka bandages it tightly, making sure there is no pressure on the joint.

“I killed him myself,” Jin states after a long silence. Taka looks over to his face, but Jin's eyes are closed. 

“I followed him to his ship, it was burning down.” Taka pulls a blanket over Jin's tired legs to keep him warm, resting his hand on his thigh. “I killed his soldiers. Then I stabbed him in the chest, and cut his head off.” Jin says that matter-of-factly, as if it had cost him nothing to do so, as if he believes he has become so accustomed to violence it does not touch him anymore. 

It is a lie, but Taka does not challenge it. He will not cry over Khotun Khan's death.

“It didn't feel good to kill him. I thought it would, but it didn't. It didn't feel like anything.” Jin's eyes open and he turns his head, looking at Taka. 

“Jin,” Taka tempers, softly. Before he can continue, Jin speaks again. 

“As he died, I told him,” he says, and pauses to consider. “I told him he would be forgotten. That he would have no legacy.” He meets Taka's gaze. “That his name would only be mentioned in passing, if at all, in the long and prosperous history of Japan.” Taka wonders if Jin is thinking about his own name, struck from the records of the samurai of Tsushima.

“That,” Jin adds, his eyebrows furrowed, “felt good.”

“He will not get the glory he wanted,” Taka agrees, his voice quiet but tight with anger. “Only death.” He strokes his hand up Jin's chest, encouraging him to lie down and rest. “You did us all a great kindness, freeing us from the Khan. You faced death for the people of Tsushima, and did what no-one else could. We are grateful. We will not forget.” 

Jin watches him with dark eyes, heavy-lidded with exhaustion. 

“Sleep,” Taka tells him, softly, and Jin does. 

***

The day Jin comes back from dueling his uncle is the only time Taka ever sees him cry. 

He returns without his Sakai armour, wearing a dark patterned Ronin attire instead, a set Taka has never seen him wear before. His face is so stony and grim as he unsheathes his katana that Taka rushes to his side, worried he might do something horrifying with it. But Jin only sets it in front of the fire, along with his tanto. 

His hands are shaking, Taka notices. He's never seen Jin's hands shake like this, not when he had to take uncomfortable decisions, not when he battled and killed an entire Mongol camp on his own. Taka wants to ask but he does not, pouring Jin a cup of hot tea and letting him decide what he wants to say.

“He asked me to kill him,” is what Jin forces out, at length. Taka does not need to ask who he's talking about. “For honor. Because I have destroyed my clan, and his, and if he cannot bring my head to the Shogun, he has nothing.” Jin's fingers are so white on the tea cup Taka fears he might shatter it. “It was a fair request.”

“He's your uncle,” Taka placates, his voice soft. “You love him.” He's not sure Jin hears him. 

“I couldn't,” Jin says, abruptly, and he turns to face Taka, tears in his eyes. “It is the only thing he's asked of me since I betrayed him, and I couldn't give it to him.” The tears roll down silently, across Jin's scar and his red cheeks, dripping from his jaw. “I couldn't.”

“Jin,” Taka sighs, and pulls him into his arms, letting Jin hide his wet face in his shoulder. He cries for a long time, silent sobs making him twitch and sigh. Taka says nothing, touching his hair until the sadness within Jin becomes bearable again, tension releasing in his body. 

***

It takes Jin and his allies a few more days to get rid of the remaining Mongols and finish pacifying Kamiagata. The weather is still wretchedly cold and dreary but the atmosphere at Jokagu temple -and everywhere else they go- is completely different. There is hope now, on all the faces pale from the cold. Pride in their allies's eyes, whenever they look at Jin. 

Soon they ride back to Toyotama, stopping often on the way to get rid of any remaining pockets of Mongol activity. At night, Taka sleeps in Jin's tent. As they near Yarikawa, they have dinner and a serious discussion about the future. 

“I'll stay in Yarikawa,” Taka says, carefully. “They need a blacksmith, they've offered me the job.”

Jin tilts his head in silent agreement, his gaze intent. 

“It's not too far from wherever that house of yours is,” Taka adds, his tone soft though the comment is pointed. He's guessing, because Jin hasn't told him where Tradition's End is. It's better he doesn't know, in case anyone tries to find out. “You can come and visit me, slip into the forge at night.”

Jin is silent for a few long seconds. “You'll have to publicly renounce me, if they ask,” he states. It's a segue of sorts, but Taka has been expecting something like this for a while now, and he's not surprised. “You can tell them you didn't know I was challenging the Shogun. That you thought I was fighting for the good of the people, but realized I was just as bad as the Mongols.” Jin arches his eyebrows. “That I threatened you when you refused to care for my armor.”

“I won't say _that_ ,” Taka refuses, alarmed. It looks like Jin is going to protest, so he continues. “I won't have to. I can tell them what everyone else in Yarikawa will tell them, when asked. That you freed the city and we followed you into battle, thinking you had the Shogun's best interests in mind. That we realized too late you did not, and came home then.” 

He reaches out and takes Jin's hand. “The Shogun won't get anything about you from the people of Yarikawa. He knows it, and the samurai at your estate know it too.” 

“Good,” Jin states, firmly. “Do not get into trouble defending me. There is nothing left to defend.”

Taka disagrees with that and he has to bite his lip to silence himself, tilting his face down for a few seconds before he meets Jin's eyes again. “You and I know what happened, Jin. The people know what happened. The politics don't matter.”

Jin's answering smile is wan, but it is real. 

***

Taka settles in Yarikawa. 

It's bittersweet, coming back to his hometown. There are still a lot of memories lurking in the narrow streets, ready to jump out at him when he least expects them to, and not all of them are pleasant. It's nice, too, to find old friends and distant relatives again, and share stories of the past. 

Yuna doesn't settle with him, as she finds she prefers a nomadic lifestyle, riding through the island, looking for people in need and fighting by Jin's side if he needs her. She visits often, still, and Taka has a room for her at the forge. They spend many evenings by the fire, eating grilled fish and drinking Kenji's sake. 

The samurai that took residence at Jin's estate in Omi only come to Yarikawa once. They ask pointed questions to their lord and to the villagers, and find out very little about where the Ghost could be hiding. When they step into Taka's forge, he politely asks them if they need their katanas sharpened or their armors checked. The wave a death warrant signed by the Shogun in front of his face, bearing Jin's name. 

Taka tells them the truth, which is that he does not know where the Ghost is hiding. He does not say that he wouldn't tell them, if he knew.

They don't come back. 

***

Jin visits him often. He comes at night, swinging onto the roof of the forge from a nearby pagoda, landing silently and slipping inside through the roof hatch Taka leaves unlocked. 

Taka likes to pretend that he's getting better at hearing Jin come, at listening for the swish of his metal hook, for the light steps onto the mossy rooftop, for the creak of the hatch. It's a lie, mostly, but Jin lets him get away with it. 

They have dinner and sleep in each other's arms in Taka's warm room above the forge. He watches Jin's face in the moonlight, the line of his jaw, the scar on his cheek, the darkness of his eyes. Jin looks softer now than he did during the war, less harried. He looks sadder too, like a man who has seen too much of the ugliness of this world. 

But the sadness goes away, if only for a moment, when Taka kisses him. 

On a warm sunny day, they go to an onsen together. It's a secluded one, high up on the mountain, surrounded by pampa grass and golden trees. Taka relaxes against the rocky edge of the pool, his ankle against Jin's. “This is how it started,” he points out, gesturing at the water. “Between us.” At an onsen, what feels like such a long time ago. 

Jin tilts his head to the side in agreement, his eyes knowing. “You were staring at me,” he says, grinning a little. “I got out of the pool to see what you would do, and you went entirely red in the face.”

“I was trying not to look,” Taka protests, though he's laughing too. “And you were...” he gestures at Jin's naked body. _This._

“You looked,” Jin teases, smugly. 

“I looked,” Taka agrees with a sigh, moving closer so he can put his arms around Jin's shoulders. “You said nothing, and then showed up at the forge in the middle of the night.”

Jin's hands land on his hips, pulling him closer still. “I'm glad I did.”

Taka smiles. “I'm glad you did, too.”


End file.
